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#btscreaturescoven
hisunshiine · 2 months
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—revelations under the moon
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🌙 pairing: alpha!namjoon x omega!reader 🌙 au/genre: ABO au, fated mates au, angst, smut 🌙 series rating: M 🌙 wc: 9,468 🌙 series warnings: mentions of an off-screen character death (barely a character tbh), brief male masturbation, thoughts of 'cheating' (if they aren't true mates though..is it?), cursing, retelling of a fake historical fable that includes VERY brief mentions of murder and suicide as the consequence of a tragic hero's hubris explicit sexual content: biting, marking, knotting, semi-rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare 🌙 an: wow, i did not think i would get this out in time, january was a rough month for me, but my grandpa just finished his last lung cancer treatment last week, and im trying to just balance all the stress of real life, but yeah, i think it's getting better. thank you to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi @moonleeai and @peachiilovesot7 i appreciate all your help, whether you helped in december or in february, it is much appreciated, as always. you're the best hype squad. this is also my first ABO story, so if you hate it don't tell me. LOL 🌙 summary: "When crescent rises, we shall rise as one, Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun." Alpha-heir Namjoon and his long time sweetheart are thought to be the next pair to rule Highscrest, but when Duskfall is attacked, the heir makes a decision that changes the course of not only his and his girlfriend's destiny, but yours as well.
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This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the lovely @colormepurplex2! Happy Valentine's Day!
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🌒🌒🌒 Tuesday - Waxing Gibbous
The loud chatter of the crowd irritates you; your senses are on overdrive after the past two weeks you’ve had. Packing and moving everything you own across the river during the New Moon was unexpected—almost as unexpected of it being a result of a peace treaty signed by the Beta of your old pack after the death of Alpha Tyvrin. 
A Beta jostles you in an attempt to move closer to the raised platform at the far end of the civic center, and you shoot him a quick glare before turning your attention back to the men on stage to avoid any drama. An Omega glaring at a Beta isn’t as bad as if it was an Alpha, but insubordinate enough still. The new tribe members do not know your previous role in Duskfall and have every right to challenge any hierarchical disrespect.
“Quiet, please,” a voice rumbles quietly, but everyone in the room follows the directive. You recognize the Alpha Father, or the father of the Alpha-Heir and most recent Pack Alpha of Highcrest, at the podium. Your irritation drops as your senses can finally focus now that the room is silent. The smells of so many new pack members still suffocates your olfactory system, but it’s bearable now. One scent seems to overpower the rest, a clean forestry smell that seems to dilute the others. “Good evening, and thank you all for coming tonight. We hope you all have been acclimating to the changes these past few weeks. If you have any concerns, please reach out to any of us here.” 
The Alpha Father waves over his son, stepping aside to let him take the lead of the rest of the meeting. Your eyes drink in the lithe movements highlighted by the fit of his suit. “Thank you, Alpha Father. For those of you who are joining us from Duskfall, at the time of the New Moon three months prior, I began the ascension steps. Right before your arrival, I had just finished the last of the three trials. All that remains is the bonding.”
You look around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction to his voice as you are—the crowd is transfixed; all attention is on the Alpha Heir Kim Namjoon. He’s young, almost thirty, but commands the stage. It’s not just because he’s handsome, though the blue suit and his dark brown hair help. His aura oozes from afar, your inner wolf screaming at you that this is a man you would follow and it’s your turn to receive a dirty look as you bump into the person in front of you. You turn back to the stage, ears attuning to his baritone as he continues.
“—final ceremony will take place in three days, and as you all know, I will be selecting my mate. I know that there are many newcomers who may be wary of joining the pack with all of these changes happening so soon, but please have faith in us. Highcrest will protect you all, and we will be at full strength as soon as the full moon rises in a week.”
Some applause breaks out, and his confidence soothes the wolf inside you that worries about this treaty. Highcrest sits on the eastern side of the Twin Rivers split, atop the range that leads to Twin Falls. Your previous pack, Duskfall, was integrated into Highcrest two weeks ago after Shadowhide attacked and killed Alpha Tyvrin under the cover of the New Moon, in a successful attempt at taking the land between the two streams. 
The fertile soil and access to the freshwater source has been a source of contention between Duskfall and Shadowhide for decades, and while a group consisting of the Alpha, Beta and his best warriors patrolled your western border, Shadowhide attacked. The Beta and a few others escaped by the grace of the moon, which gave the pack enough warning to prepare and kept Shadowhide at bay now that the act of surprise was gone. With the Alpha slain and the clock ticking before Shadowhide invaded, the Beta had no choice but to reach out to Highcrest for help. A peace treaty was signed, allowing all pack members of Duskfall to join Highcrest in exchange for their commitment to the pack. Any members who were against the treaty were allowed to leave of their own volition and go back to the main city, or find a pack of their choosing, but with the danger of Shadowhide’s takeover imminent, everyone agreed to travel east across the river and up the mountain range to the safety of Highcrest.
“Thank you to all of Duskfall’s former pack for all of your patience with us as we’ve worked to create a space for all of you here in Highcrest. After the ceremony, which is open to all unmated Omegas, everyone from Duskfall will officially be of Highcrest, and those who have not yet finished their commitment rites can do so at that time.”
You watch as Kim Namjoon waves over a tall, slender woman with sleek hair falling down her back. She is the picture of elegance, her walk stalking forward in a hypnotic fashion as she steps beside the Alpha-Heir and speaks to the crowd. You recognize her from the Apothecary you’ve been training in ever since you’ve settled into your new life here.  
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Min Everlight, an Omega of pack Highcrest. I am the head healer for the pack, and if Alpha Namjoon is ever unavailable, please come see me down at the Apothecary. I’ll help in whatever capacity I can in his absence.” Her hand moves almost subconsciously towards his, and they intertwine fingers. “We have committed our lives to this pack, and all of us up here will do our best to provide for Highcrest. Please stop by the apothecary this week if you haven’t yet received the Aconite to remove your Duskfall markings in preparation for your Highcrest one.”
Everlight stays linked to Namjoon as he takes a slight step forward to end the meeting.
“When the crescent rises,” he begins, and the people around you intone their response. 
“We, too, shall rise.”
Walking under the waxing gibbous, you and your Beta roommate, Sana, wave goodbye to one of your elderly neighbors. You’ve been checking on all of the members of your old pack, helping them in any way you can to get them acclimated after work. You go home tired every night, but you want to make sure this merger works.
Sana skips ahead as your new home comes into sight, singing the Alpha-Heir’s praises. “He’s so brilliant, I promise you this is the best thing that could’ve happened to us. And Min Everlight? She’s amazing, right? You’ve been working under her these past couple of weeks, isn’t she effervescent?”
You laugh at her excitement, answering her vaguely as you unlock the door to your shared home. “She knows her stuff, that’s for sure. I’ve learned a few new things already since we’ve been here, but most of it I already knew.” Sana dreamily wanders to her bedroom, ignoring your slight diss and chattering mostly to herself about how wonderful tribe Highcrest is. You plop onto the couch unceremoniously, thoughts on Min Everlight. 
Everlight is effervescent, with an inner glow that makes her the perfect Omega as mate for the Alpha-Heir. You’ve heard from the other women at the Apothecary that she and Namjoon have been dating for years. Longtime sweethearts and—if their little show on stage meant anything—his choice for his mate. This thought makes you feel sick, because ever since you walked away from Duskfall and followed him to Highcrest, your heart has thrummed for him. 
Taking a deep breath that you let out with a sigh, you change your line of thinking before you venture towards a vitriol hatred of your soon-to-be female leader. Min Everlight has been nothing but motherly and nurturing to all of you since your arrival, but the more you see her all over the Alpha-Heir, the harder it is to like her. Not just because of her romantic relationship with Namjoon, either, but that she represents everything that you almost were, and reminds you of everything you lost.  
You scratch at your upper arm over your shirtsleeve, where the Aconite serum you rubbed on earlier dissolves your Duskfall tattoo in preparation for your Highcrest one. The Aconite is diluted and mixed with other herbs to prevent poisoning that would weaken you before the ceremony. Sana disappears into the shared bathroom to shower, and you close your eyes for a moment not meaning to fall asleep as you wait for your turn.
The moon goddess blesses you with dreams of Duskfall past, memories of your destined path as the tribe’s Luna-to-be—the Omega paired to the now fallen Alpha Tyvrin—and you wake to the reality that all you have trained for was for naught.  
🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous
Or, more like you wake with the sudden slam of a door, sitting upright as you squint to keep back the sunlight. 
“Damn, you slept on the couch?” Sana questions, looking cheery and well-rested.
You clear your throat to answer. “Yeah, I guess so. What time is it?”
Sana glances at her watch. “Um, it’s half past eight.”
“Shit, I overslept, and I’m supposed to meet with Everlight again today.” You stand abruptly, and begin organizing all of the large pillows on the couch, laying the blanket just so until you hear Sana laughing at you. You look up at her with a glare. “What?”
“I think you might be in pre-heat. You’ve fluffed that pillow at least three times, and that blanket cannot be folded over the back of the couch any more perfectly unless you’ve got a protractor in the cabinet.”
“There’s no way, it hasn’t been enough time since the last one.” You ignore her as you clamber back onto the couch, tucking your legs up under you seemingly forgetting your plans for the day.
“Your heat is probably gearing up because of some Alpha at the meeting last night. With Tyvrin gone, rest in moonlight, you’re no longer taking the suppressants are you? With everything that’s happened, it makes sense that you’d forget,” she theorizes, “and apparently Highcrest doesn’t have that practice here.”
You can’t believe you’ve forgotten. In Duskfall, you were chosen by Alpha Tyvrin to be his mate, and asked to take suppressants until the ceremony. This was to help to prevent you from having a heat, decreasing your pheromones from triggering any non-bonded Alpha’s into their ruts and endangering you. These past few weeks since the move, you haven’t been taking any suppressants, and you’re sure by now it's run its course and is out of your system.  
“They don’t practice that here?”
“No, weren’t you listening at the meeting? The Alpha-Heir doesn’t choose his mate the same way like in Duskfall. Highcrest has a different ceremony. All unmated Omega’s can be part of it.”
“But isn’t Everlight most likely going to be chosen anyways?”
“I hear there’s blindfolds involved, so maybe instead of sulking, and filling the apartment with your sour scent, you can just join the ceremony and give it a try.”
The news fills your chest with what feels like sunbeams, and you smile at the Beta as you relax into what you’re now realizing is a nest.
“Ah, the room smells so much nicer now. Also—you’re late.”
🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous
Kim Namjoon sits patiently outside the Apothecary, waiting for Everlight to finish for the day. He can sense her inside, her scent a fresh scent of clean linen, just brought down off of the line after soaking in the sun. It’s always been the strongest scent to him, out of all of the women in Highcrest, and he’s sure that the Moon Goddess will prove her to be his mate this weekend when he ascends to his Alpha status. 
Fingers drumming along his clothed knee, he hums to himself as he watches the sunrays filtering through the trees as it sets. The small bell above the door chimes as small groups of girls and women of all ages trickle out from the shop—Everlight hosted a gathering after work for all of the newcomers to review the Highcrest ceremony procedures for women, and they all bow respectfully when they catch sight of him seated in the chair near the door. 
Namjoon can’t help but wonder what else they were working on today, his nose itches to investigate whatever new tonic or serum she’s put together this time—the smell is amazing. Like a warm honey coating his tongue, hints of bourbon with small bursts of brown sugar peaking his interest. He hopes it’s not something inedible, like the Aconite serum, and his curiosity getting the better of him, he stands, unbuttoning his suit jacket and moving to peer through the small glass windows framed in the center of the door. 
Ah, he thinks as he takes in one of the new pack members, Everlight must have let one of the Duskfall women teach a new tonic. Namjoon recognizes you through the dusty glass standing in front of the group, and remembers that his Beta, Seokjin, had pointed you out from afar when you first arrived.
🌑Two Weeks Ago 🌑 Monday - New Moon
“That’s Alpha Tyvrin’s mate, er—was his mate. They hadn’t actually had the ceremony yet, the attack happened before the full moon ceremony could happen, but she was set to be Duskfall’s Luna.” Seokjin’s finger points down the lane from the window of City Hall, connecting to a woman walking towards the villager housing area. Namjoon eyes you warily before posing a series of questions to his Beta.
“Will it be an issue to have two mature Luna’s in a pack? Should we offer to place her with another pack to mate with an Alpha?”
“I don’t know…I haven’t ever heard of something like this happening. Typically the Alpha has already mated the Luna, and since one cannot live without the other—”
“I see.” Namjoon understands why the Moon Goddess would create such a fate for paired leaders. “Had the ceremony already happened, she would be buried next to him. It could be a help, now that we have so many more people, to have two strong healers in the pack. Maybe she could travel on patrols in case of an attack?” He wonders how Everlight would react to finding out that there’s another Luna-trained Omega in the pack, and if this would be a way to spin it to lessen any blowback. 
Seokjin looks thoughtful, eyebrows lifted as he tilts his head and gathers his words carefully. “That could be a good option for the second Luna, so that their training and skills do not go to waste, especially now that our pack has grown…It could also be worth mentioning—with so many new members, it would be a good show of faith if you were to perhaps choose the Duskfall Luna as your mate—”
Namjoon’s growl silences Seokjin momentarily but he presses on when he sees no claws being barred. 
“I’m just saying, nothing helps unite two packs better than having one of their own integrated into the upper levels of the hierarchy. If we want to keep peace and help Duskfall feel loyalty to Highcrest, taking their to-be-Luna as your mate would be the smart move. You and Everlight aren’t fated, so it’s not like our pack would frown upon it under the circumstances—”
Namjoon’s eyes cut like daggers as he stares his Beta down, almost dragon-like in ferocity as he contains his inner beast. “Everlight is my mate, Seokjin. I would never betray her like that.” 
🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday (present) - Waxing Gibbous
Looking at you now, Namjoon is glad to see that you and Everlight seem to have no issues working alongside each other. After reading through previous Alphas’ historical notes and reviewing the history of the packs of the Twin Rivers Valley, he decided that it would be best to keep you around, as he worries his newest constituents would revolt if they thought he had banished you from Highcrest. He spent the first couple of weeks talking to other elder members of Duskfall, and learned that a lot of the pack had come to rely on you as they became acclimated, that you had been going around to visit with them and check-in, and keep them all calm with the changes happening. 
He appreciated that you had taken this on as a duty, especially when you were dealing with the biggest blow of all. Namjoon meant to meet with you to thank you, but the longer he took, the more it felt fake, rehearsed, and like an afterthought instead of what it really was: an Alpha-Heir not yet familiar with his role, and learning about you from afar made him feel like a weird stalker of sorts that he had all this knowledge of you and your skills from others.  
Your skills would be most useful to their pack, and though you were meant to lead the pack by an Alpha’s side, you could still maintain some modicum of that role, just as the second to Everlight. Namjoon is sure this plan will work. He plans to have a meeting with Seokjin and Everlight tonight, that way he can make sure that they will follow his plan without any issues. 
He knows he could just order everyone to follow along, but using his Alpha to force others to do what he wants doesn’t always work out in the long run. The history of the tribal lands and the fact that there were three distinct tribes from the original one, up until Tyvrin’s death, is proof of that. 
It’s much better for a leader to have the consenting loyalty of his pack, instead of forced fealty that brews contempt and derision. Namjoon steps back from the door to allow another person to exit, and once again, the honeyed bourbon seeps through the opening. It’s much stronger this time, urging him to his feet almost against his will. 
He feels his blood thrumming, pounding through his veins like a rushing river. Namjoon checks his forehead, as if feverish, and notices his hand comes back with a sheen of sweat. It’s like he’s gone into pre-rut, which would be crazy. He’s pretty regular when it comes to his ruts lining up with Everlight’s heats, and she’s still not due for a little bit…
Namjoon stumbles backward, taking the three steps back to solid ground quickly as he tugs at the collar of his buttoned shirt. He’s too hot, it’s all too much, he has to do something, move, but he’s in the middle of the town, there are people who look to him to be more restrained than this standing all around…Namjoon trips a little on the gravel beneath his feet as he takes off back towards City Hall and away from Everlight, afraid that if she is due for her heat and his pre-rut was triggered by that, he would mount her right there in front of the last few people in the store and fuck her hard against the counter, not caring if everyone saw the powerful way he drove his cock in and out of her until he filled her with cum and knotted her.
He’s locked himself in his office, blinds closed with his fist wrapped around his thick length as he imagines it: his hands firm on the plump rounds of ass, spreading the cheeks apart as he spits between them, Omega slick lathering his cock with every stroke and the tight walls sucking him back in with every pump out, and when he cums—copious amounts leaking around his large hand—it’s only then that he realizes that it wasn’t the clean linen-scented Everlight he was imagining taking his knot.
🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous
You’re irritated—more so than you’ve been since your entire life was turned upside down two weeks ago. The Beta that’s always around the Alpha, Seokjin, randomly showed up at your place in the morning saying you were tasked to go on a supply run to the nearest city. It makes sense—Seokjin explained that the Alpha had handpicked everyone in the group to help new pack members meet others and start to learn their ways, and you appreciate it, except for the fact that you don’t want to be far from home right now. 
In fact, because of the upcoming ceremony, Everlight had let all of the women training in the apothecary have the next few days off, as she expected to be chosen and wanted to prepare herself and her home for what was to come. You had mixed feelings when she initially announced this to everyone, because while you enjoy the respite from the constant go-go-go of changes around you, the reason behind it left you feeling miffed. 
All of yesterday, you spent time working at the Apothecary and were even asked by some of the others to show them some tonics and potions that they had never heard of, and while you enjoy teaching others, it’s quite draining to go through the motions while talking through every step you make, and why. The girls quietly scribbled down your words in their notebooks, committing your teachings to paper, which made you feel good about yourself, until reality hit about your future. 
It almost didn’t feel fair that you were so new to the pack and already others were looking to you to train and teach them new things, meanwhile another person is slated to take the position you’ve wanted and trained for your whole life. 
Shaking away your thoughts, you tap back into the moment, finally having arrived in the bustling city a little past mid-day. You hate all of the smells; the odor rising from the sewer grates and scents from the people who jostle you as they rudely push past your group. You hold back the urge to plug your nose, sighing out a weighted exhale as you follow Seokjin through the automatic sliding doors and into a grocer’s market. 
🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous
Back in the forest, a half day’s trip from the city, Kim Namjoon spends his time in his office again, hiding out from his duties by disguising them as last minute studying and planning for the ceremony. 
He couldn’t bring himself to meet with Everlight the previous night, instead calling Seokjin only to discuss the plans for the supply run. He looked over the list of items Everlight needed in the apothecary, and only because the winter months were starting to fade away into spring meant this would be the last expensive trip until winter came again. 
Bees do not make honey in the winter, so why can’t he explain away the coincidence of the honey bourbon smell and the note written in Everlight’s scrawl next to the requested item underlined twice: Honey — we’ve been out for ages!! He doesn’t want to believe that he could be feeling this way for someone other than Everlight, but of two things he knows for sure: he smelled honey, and Everlight is distinctly NOT a honey smell. 
Seeing that on the list had Namjoon rise with a wild idea, to send the other Luna far, far away for the day, to help him clear his mind. In reality, he paces his office, wearing thin the once plush carpet with his worried steps until he can’t take it anymore. Crossing the room, he walks with such a force that no one dares to question where he’s off to. 
He knows where you live, knows that your Beta roommate Sana should be home, and when he knocks on the door with authority, he expects Sana to fling the door open so hastily that the movement sends the mixed scents of the apartment wafting out at him. Instantly, he expects his spine to straighten as his whole body is overwhelmed by the truth—except that never comes. No one is home, as a kind older woman politely points out to him after his third attempt at knocking. 
“Those girls went into town today, it seemed like the Luna had to drag Sana along with her,” she chuckled, clearly a pack member who was fond of the two women. “Did you want me to tell them you stopped by?”
“No! I mean—no need to worry them about my visit, I can talk to them tomorrow, thank you.”
He swiftly departs, deciding to just head home instead of back to the office for some peace.
“Joonie!”
Barely having set foot in his residence, Namjoon is bombarded with the irritating scent of laundry detergent. It’s too pungent; overwhelming in a way that he’s never experienced before. He catches himself before his nose wrinkles and Everlight ascends into his arms. He hugs her back, planting a soft kiss to the side of her head in an endearing manner before she pulls him into the dining room for an early dinner with his parents. 
Namjoon spends the evening engaged in conversation with his parents and Everlight, avoiding talks of the ceremony as best he can—despite his mother and girlfriend's best attempts. His dad eyes him warily—in that cunning way that only another Alpha can—sensing the change in the dynamics within the room. Namjoon is grateful his father remains quiet, simply watching the conversation over the nightcap of barrel-aged Cabernet Sauvignon from their cellar.
Once they call it a night and his parents disappear to their room, Everlight begs Namjoon to stay over, and unable to say no to the woman he’s never said no to before, he relents. He regrets this decision almost immediately, as his hopes that Everlight would help him take his mind off of the one thing that’s been at the forefront of it are crushed.   
“She’s just really good at healing. She knows a lot, like I can’t believe I’m even admitting it, but she knows things that I don’t. And the things I have been able to teach her, she learns it so quickly and easily. I’m actually kind of jealous.”
Namjoon can tell; Everlight’s face is scrunched up in a way that makes her look unattractive, and he doesn’t know what to do or to say to make her feel less insecure. 
“Maybe it’s a good thing she is joining our pack. It’s important to learn and grow continuously.” It’s as diplomatic as he can be at the moment.
“Yes, but she’s trained as a Luna, just like me. It’s a little like she’s trying to take my spot. Yesterday, while I was teaching, the other girls asked her to teach them something I didn’t know, and I just had to stand there and let her take over my lesson. The girls were so focused on her and taking notes, it made me kind of hate her.”
She’s looking at him, her eyes trying to find something within his, but he looks away, reaching for the light next to his bed.
Everlight reaches for him, aligning her body to his as her fingers grip his shoulders so she can position herself atop him.
“That’s why I can’t wait for the ceremony, baby. We can finally be a true, mated pair. Start our forever, with me as your Luna. No room for confusion from the pack about who will bear your pups.” Her eyebrows waggle up and down suggestively as she lowers her lips to his plump ones. “We can practice now if you want, you can scent me, let all the bitches in heat know to back off.” She kisses him again. 
Namjoon kisses her back, but her laundry odor fills his nasal cavity and her words are so off-putting for the role she hopes to take on for the pack. He can feel her hands travel down his ribcage, but nothing about her touch turns him on. Pulling away from the kiss, he catches his breath as he readies his excuse.
“Babe, I think we should wait,” his large hands hold her shoulders firmly before his touch grows softer, palms smoothing up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “The ceremony is so soon, and I want it to be sacred…I know that might sound cheesy and un-Alpha-like but—”
“No, you’re right.” Everlight smiles softly at him, but he can see the hurt in her eyes at being rejected. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed with all of the new pack members and the changes happening, I think I got a little over excited.”
“I love that about you, you know? You’re excitement over things, and how you want to be the best version of yourself for our pack. You’re already an amazing Luna in your own right.”
Everlight excuses herself to the bathroom, and Namjoon clambers off his bed, bare feet leading him towards his cracked bedroom window. In the light of the almost full moon, he can now see the noises that drew his attention moments ago: returning members of his pack walking down the path to their homes. 
There’s no mistaking it now. A warmth blooms from his groin, spreading higher until his neck grows hot from it as his nose and mouth feel thick with the sweetest bourbon honey scent. With you unaware of his gaze as you laugh with Seokjin and Sana, he feels jealousy boiling into his chest.
“Mine.”
🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon
You wake up late on Friday morning, your body a little stiff and sore. You feel as if you slept with a heater on, sleep clothes clinging to your body due to the sweat that covers your skin. You try to shake it off, but the feeling doesn’t go away, even after a cold shower.
You’re not surprised you woke up mid afternoon after arriving back at Highcrest near midnight, but you suppose the excitement of what’s to come will keep you awake the rest of the evening. You have to meet the elders for the pre-ceremony rituals at the start of moonrise, so you eat a light snack in the hopes it won’t trouble your stomach too much. 
You know now that Sana is right. Your heat will kick in no later than tomorrow afternoon, with the confirmation of the night sweating and soreness symptoms appearing today, but you worry about what it will mean if you end up not being chosen…you’ll begin cramping and sink into Omega-space, leaving you vulnerable to other higher ranking pack members without a plan prepared to get you through your heat.
At quarter till six, you leave your home with a small bag of items and head to city hall, where Elder Aline waits for you and the other Omegas who planned to join the ceremony to arrive. Elder Aline was old—she worked closely with the Luna three times removed was in power, and lived to prepare both of her successors, and now would be helping to prepare this ceremony. 
You hug your bag to your chest as the last of the group arrives: Everlight. She only looks slightly surprised to see you in the group of seven Omega’s, but she fixes her facial features quickly and offers you a bright smile. 
“I didn’t expect to see you in the group!” Everlight’s tone is friendly enough, but the undercurrent of her words screams out territorial.
“Oh, yeah, my roommate said I should come as an unmated Omega to take part in the ceremony. It’s different from our previous pack’s tradition, and if I hope to carry out my duties and help with future ceremonies, the best way to learn is to be part of it, right?”
Your answer makes sense, perfectly curated to help push away any questions that dig too deep into your motivations, including yourself. Part of you knew that it would be beneficial to you if the worst comes to fruition, but the other part, the more primitive part, knows the real reason is because the wolf inside of you longs for your mate to be Kim Namjoon.  
Elder Aline calls for your attention, her weathered voice a calming stillwater that acts as a soothing balm to the nervous energy in your chest. She speaks to the group, sharing some information about how the rest of the night will play out before she leads your small group towards the outskirts of Highcrest, to the south of a small lake on the edge of the forest. The walk takes a bit of time to navigate the terrain, especially with an Elder leading. 
You allow her moments to pause and rest, clearly fatigued from traipsing through high grasses and uneven dirt, but soon enough you are there, and placed along the treeline, a small clearing awaits you. She makes quick work of explaining the first ritual’s steps, and you allow her voice to lead you through the routine. 
The cleansing ritual itself takes the better part of an hour, as everyone planning to participate strips down to enter the water under the light of the moon which now grazes the top of the trees. A small pouch filled with herbs and petals is handed to each of you to rid you of any lingering outside scents. You lather your skin, taking the time to clean every inch before stepping out to air dry. It’s colder than you expected, but no one wants to risk masking their scent for the ceremony. 
The elder had laid a simple white dress on the shore of the lake near your bag, and once dry, you sheathed your body with it, happy for the fabric to provide some warmth. She pulls a thermos from her bag along with small cups.
“Purified under the new moon,” she intones, handing you a steaming cup of tea. “Red azaleas, to pull out your emotions and attract your true mate.”
You sip it slowly, letting the heat warm your hands. The other women join you after the elder gives them each a cup, and you huddle in a circle, trying to stay warm.
“I think it’s good that we have so many of us for the ceremony,” Everlight speaks, her voice light and airy. “It would be a boring ceremony if I was here by myself.”
Her words were clearly chosen carefully, meant to sound like a compliment to the others for their company, while laying claim to the role not yet given to her by the moon. You bristle, feeling your body heat up. Her comments were starting to annoy you, because a true Luna was not insecure or haughty. She was a healer, a person that others could go to when they needed strength, compassion, or empathy. Everlight seemed to have forgotten this. 
“I think it is great that Highcrest’s tradition is different from ours, it feels more…pure.” You don’t know how else to describe it, but the act of having the alpha choose his mate through this ceremony feels like how it used to be. The elder hears you and her words confirm this. 
“This is the true ceremony. But come now, it is about time for us to begin.”
She leads you around to the north side of the lake. A small copse of trees had blocked the incoming sight, and now that you were closer, you could see the small gathering of pack members standing in a crescent.  
Directing you to step into the open space, she takes your cups from each of you as the seven of you line up with ample space between each other. You look around nervously. The cold you felt earlier when you were wet and naked exiting the lake was gone; you notice that you feel hot. You’ve felt hot since drinking the tea.
The crowd murmurs quietly to one another as you look around for Sana, finally finding her to the right near the top point of the moon shape they were standing in. She waves at you, a smile breaking across her face as she takes you in. 
All at once the noise in the forest dies out. The muttering follows suit, and Elder Aline steps before the crowd. 
“Before the great divide of the tribal lands, the Alpha’s mate was never set in stone until the ceremony was completed. Even if the Alpha had taken many lovers as a young pup, it matters not, for what the moon reveals is the truth. And an Alpha dare not disobey the moon, lest the pack fall weak.”
She then begins her tale of the history of the original tribe they descended from. 
“Many, many moons ago, we once existed as a proud and noble pack led by an Alpha of unmatched strength and wisdom named Lycaon. Under his reign, our pack thrived, united as one for the good of the group. We honored the ancient laws dictated by the phases of the moon, for we knew the moon's power was both a gift and a curse. Before the divide, we could shapeshift along with the phases of the moon.
But Lycaon, with his pride swelling within him like a thunderous storm cloud, began to question the moon's choice for his fated mate. He refused his fated Omega, instead choosing who he wanted, and not who our celestial goddess knew our pack needed. Ignoring the warnings of his most trusted Betas, Lycaon decided that his unborn son would also choose his own mate, not the moon.
At first, this defiance seemed to have no negative impact. But before long, cracks began to appear between pack members. By refusing the moon's guidance, the pack ended up with an Alpha-chosen Luna who was not prepared for her role. The rejected Luna fell melancholy, and took her own life, saying she could not watch the ruin of her pack. Some wolves found themselves unable to control their shifting, and began to attack their own kin in fits of madness. Other pack members grew weak—their bodies unable to withstand the impact of their dual nature.”
The entire crowd was enraptured hearing the tale, as Duskfall members did not know the history, and you are among them in learning the true history of the divide.
“As chaos descended upon our once-proud pack, Lycaon's authority waned as the full moon wanes. Desperate to maintain his grip on the pack, he resorted to ruling the pack with fear instead of respect. But his efforts only fueled the flames of discord, and soon, the pack was torn asunder by fights and betrayal.
In the aftermath of our pack's collapse, three new packs rose from the one, each led by a different wolf claiming to be the one true Alpha. They fought for the lands we stand upon today, with Lycaon’s son, Claudin, taking the hills to found Highcrest, and the other two packs fighting over the lower grounds.  Claudin knew that in order to reclaim the strength and glory we had lost, he must not allow pride or the greed for power seduce him into betraying the moon.”
A low murmur swept through the crowd. You knew your former packmates had the same thoughts running through their mind as you did—could this really be true? Was Alpha Tyvrin’s downfall predestined to happen in order to reunite the original pack? Elder Aline coughs, and you focus back on her.
“And so, this tale of Alpha Lycaon and our pack serves as a tale of caution for generations, a reminder of the dangers of hubris and the importance of respecting the ancient laws that govern our kind. Alpha Claudin rectified the treachery his father had done unto the moon, but we shall never shift again as punishment.”
A quiet settles upon the crowd, and the elder gestures to a group of children you didn’t notice before. They step towards each of you, and she asks you all to kneel. The small child before you has a face like a cherub, full cheeks pulled tight as he shows his teeth to you, eyes disappearing in his delight. 
He bequeaths a length of dark fabric, and his hands move so as to wrap the ends around your face, deftly knotting it behind your head. When you feel him step away, you stand back to full height. Your other senses are heightened, anxiety blossoming at what comes next. You hear footsteps, and sounds of awe and admiration sweep across the crowd stealing your nerves. You freeze in anticipation. 
“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.”
Seconds tick by as you wait, eyes furiously trying to see through the thick material stealing your sight. Seconds turn into minutes and you can hear the faint rustling of bare feet traveling across the grass, the weighted foot falls accompanied by heavy inhales of the still air surrounding the area. You know the Alpha has entered the clearing—can feel a palpable shift in the energy as your body grows hotter by the second. His scent sings to you, and you whine lowly, wanting to follow it.
Again, the crowd responds to something unseen by you, this time it has your inner wolf crouching, tail down and ears back—showing submission. Another whine escapes you, a little louder this time. Your distress must be filling the area around you, you can sense the crowd’s movement, reacting to your scent. You begin to panic, fearing that a distressed scent would push the Alpha to choose another, not the scared, submissive and pathetically whining bitch in heat—
🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 
Namjoon walks up to the clearing surrounded by his closest advisors, some of whom had been absent patrolling the borders and securing their land the past several weeks, and returned in time for the ceremony. As he approaches, the sounds in the forest quickly fade, as if sensing his arrival.
He waits for his signal to enter the clearing, far enough away that he can only smell the crowd of his pack members standing between him and the clearing where the Omegas will stand. Namjoon spent all day in the forest, away from town preparing for the ritual by hunting for game to be used for the meal to feed his mate before the knotting. He also had to follow the same cleansing tradition, bathing under the light of the full moon, drinking the purified new moon tea, and dressing in loose, white linen pants.
He tried his best to clear his mind from the events of the previous evening, and once he was away from the bustle of the town square, he found it easier to convince himself it was just a fluke. After years of being with Everlight, the idea of being fully committed must have made him feel a bit scared, so he latched onto the idea of something new, someone different…you. 
Now, after his mindful afternoon in the forest, he knows he just has to trust the moon will lead him to Everlight, his mate. He knows her scent, knows it like he knows the taste of his mom’s cooking or the sound of his father’s favorite whiskey bottle opening.
As the moon climbs higher, he waits, steadily listening as the crowd quiets and Elder Aline speaks, recounting the tale of the original tribe. As she gets close to finishing her tale, Namjoon is tapped on the shoulder by Beta Taehyung, who motions to the blindfold in his hand. 
“It’s time, Alpha.”
Namjoon nods, taking the blindfold from the younger male and covering his dragon-shaped orbs. He fastens the knot, and he senses when another one of his trusted Betas approaches him. 
“I have the pouch here. Make sure to smell it deeply before—” 
Beta Jungkook is interrupted by Namjoon. “I know, I know. Smell it deeply before I let my inner wolf out to track my mate.” He lifts an open palm so Jungkook can place the small, organza fabric reticule into his hand.
When he hears his name, he knows that’s his signal. He follows the sound of the elder’s voice to enter the clearing.
“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.” 
Raising the small sack to clear his olfactory senses, he inhales a piece of his own clothing, a small handkerchief he kept on him all week. A trick using olfactory habituation to cleanse his palate from the surrounding smells, allowing him to only smell his mate. The crowd shifts, he can hear stilted murmurs about his physique being on display since he was shirtless as he walks past his pack. 
Stepping fully into the clearing, he inhales deeply, and instantly he picks up the laundry scent that he’s so used to being surrounded by. It’s definitely Everlight’s scent—he’s almost positive—but it has an edge to it, a slight tinge that he’s not used to smelling. The longer he stands there, the more the scent morphs into a cloying, headache inducing smell. It’s almost fake, a manufactured scent that doesn’t entice him. 
He steps away from the smell of it, noting an undercurrent of something nice. The crowd reacts, confused at his actions, but he doesn’t care. He knows he has to trust the moon. And that bourbon-honey scent? He wants more of that. Lifting the pouch again to his nose to rid it of the sickly sweet smell, he drops his hand after a few inhalations, allowing the soft honey smell to seep into his pores. It’s alluring, growing more seductive by the moment, but then it takes on the additional bitter scent of anxiety, and Namjoon worries that something is wrong. 
He can feel his inner wolf scratching to get closer, to protect, to save his mate—when he steps closer, the crowd reacts again, so he grabs at his blindfold, tearing it free so that he can get to you. He needs to calm you down, you need to feel safe, to know that your Alpha is here to protect you. He’s closer to you than expected, and the whine you let out calls to him in more ways than one. 
His body feels alight with flames, he can see you’re trembling. His hand moves without him thinking, gripping the blindfold and tugging it up and off your head. 
🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 
The light of the moon feels blinding as you blink to adjust your eyes to the sudden return of your sight before it’s eclipsed by the broad body of the Alpha. His breaths are almost frantic, a heavy panting that moves his shoulders with each exhalation as his wild eyes roam your face. His neck gland is hidden by a tied piece of cloth, masking his scent partially and you want to bury your face into him, seeking safety and comfort. 
Your body responds to his proximity almost immediately, a simultaneous calming of the mind’s anxiety as physically you feel engulfed in a blaze, a sweat finally breaking out along your hairline as you’re thrown into full heat. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he inhales you, his face looking triumphant as he kneels on one knee before you. He reaches for your hands, which tremble as he locks eyes with you. 
“Namjoon, what the hell?!” Everlight stands several omegas down from you, her face free of the blindfold, which now dangles from her fingertips at her side. She doesn’t move for a moment, not until she realizes the Alpha was not responding to her. Her steps don’t falter as she gets closer to you, but your scent grows sour as you take in the murderous look on her face.
Namjoon’s movements are quick and fluid. He stands and postures himself, keeping you protected behind him as he shoves Everlight back with one hand.
“Mine,” he growls. Everlight drops the blindfold, confusion blossoming upon her face. 
Namjoon turns to you, grasping your cheeks gently in his hands. “Mate.”
He throws his head back, and lets out a loud howl to the moon. 
Chaos ensues. The entire field grows loud as some pack members celebrate the ceremony’s success, while others gossip about the outcome. You can hear snippets of the conversations until another voice grows louder, shouting at the Alpha. It’s Everlight, your brain registers, she’s angry, her sour scent wafting in your direction as she screams. 
Some Betas you’ve never seen before hold her back, preventing her from coming closer to you and Namjoon. You back up, jostling into him, and the urge you had earlier grows so strong you don’t hold back. Jumping into his arms, you bury your nose into his neck, and you instantly melt against him, fatigued. Namjoon is startled but holds you tightly, and you can feel when he begins to walk swiftly away from the crowd.
You don’t question it, you just let your Alpha lead you to someplace safe. It takes a few minutes before you arrive at a small cottage, its windows lit with a soft glow. You recognize it for what it is—a mating cabin. Set far enough away from the town square that a newly mated Alpha and Luna can have alone time to get through the next few days. 
Namjoon sets you down, but doesn’t let you go. Opening the door, the first thing you see is a pack of water on the small wooden table. It’s one large room, like a studio with an open concept. There’s a small kitchen set up to the left, and straight ahead is a large bed. The sheets are clean and welcoming, and you can feel your body beginning to cramp as your heat kicks in. 
You knew it was coming—the low-grade fever, mild cramping, and more recently, increased slick and pheromone production ever since Namjoon touched you in the clearing. You shuffle, uncomfortable as slick leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh slowly.
You can hear Namjoon inhale sharply, before he’s kicking the door shut and grabbing you firmly. He doesn’t speak. His eyes say everything though, the adoration and lust sparkling in the low light in the room. 
“Alpha.” It’s a statement. It’s a request. 
His lips are on yours, devouring, tasting, suckling as if he can’t get enough of you.
“Honey. You taste like sweet bourbon infused honey…it’s intoxicating.” Namjoon kisses you again, this time his lips trail from yours to your neck. He teases you, teeth nipping at the skin as your thighs rub together seeking pleasure as he pulls sinful mewls from your throat. Your hands grip his upper arms, and you try to tug him towards the bed. You need him. You need his knot. 
“Please, Alpha,” you beg, and he shivers in your hold, aroused by your submissiveness. “Need you.”
Namjoon lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You grind against him, biting his bottom lip aggressively. You feel so hot—burning up—and he’s the only thing that can cure you from this growing pain. 
Your heat is in full swing, and you can tell it’s triggering your Alpha’s rut. He’s trying to hold back, be gentle and slow, but when you push your leaking core against him, he gives in. His hands fumble with the waistband of his linen pants before his heavy cock springs free, fully erect and searching for your entrance. You move your waist to help the angle of his cock, as one hand holds your hip and the other holds the base of his shaft to align himself. 
When the slight pressure on your slit gives, you thrust forward, forcing him inside you with ease thanks to your copious amounts of slick. You feel full, the head hitting in just the right spot. Attempting to create friction, you try to undulate your hips, but the resulting shockwaves from the tip meeting that sensitive spot causes you to clench around him. 
He freezes, feeling the quickening of your walls and you yelp in surprise when he throws you on the bed. The loss of him inside you feels unfair, but he steps out of his pants and soon crowds your body with his own as he climbs over your body. A firm hand presses into the middle of your upper back, before he grips your hips and pulls them upwards. The dress slides down, revealing your bare backside to him and you feel more than hear the growl he lets out. 
He leans against your body, ripping your dress up until you are able to slide the garment off your arms and throw it to the floor. A smack jolts you forward, but he adjusts you back into place. You feel his thumb drag over your slick covered folds, taunting you. 
“Alpha!” you whine, and he chuckles before realigning his length to your throbbing core. At this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, and he begins to rock his hips, thrust after thrust inside you. His large hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side. 
“Want to see that pretty face as you cum on my cock, want to hear you cry for me when you take my knot.” His low baritone promises you pleasure beyond your imagination. 
He licks up your spine, kissing and nuzzling into your neck, and you know it's the spot he wants to mark you at. You beg him to do it, but he just shakes his head against your skin. “Not yet, my love.”
He kisses you with every thrust he takes, before sitting up more to pin you down to the bed. His movements grow sharp, hands grabbing at your ass cheeks as he pounds into you. Switching up his movements, you can’t believe he fucks so well when he begins to rotate his hips and slips his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it, drool leaking from your mouth onto the sheets as your legs shake. 
You clench again, involuntarily spasming every few seconds and you know you’re close—you tell him as much. 
“Fuck,” he curses, and you grip the bedsheets as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to your hips and he arches your back even more as he speeds up his own movements. They're fluid, your slick making it almost effortless for him to please you, to take you from behind like this until he’s so deep he could feel himself poking through your stomach—
“Take my knot, want you to have my pups, fuck—”he presses his hips flush to your ass, streams of his cum filling you up endlessly as your body wracks with euphoric release. You whine as you feel the intense pressure of his knot filling you before the pain of his marking bite overtakes your senses. 
You feel overwhelmed in a good way, pain giving way to pleasure as the bite seals your mated status and his knot begins to slowly deflate. Once able, Namjoon rolls you over to face him, nuzzling into you as you hold him close. Your heat was sated for the time being, but you knew that soon you would be climbing him once again to meet your needs. 
You wince as his nose grazes your fresh mark and he makes an apologetic face. Standing up from the bed, he grabs a bottle of water for you, twisting the cap off for you and proffering the drink. 
You take a full swallow, quenching the thirst you didn’t realize you had. Heats have a way of making you forget to take care of yourself in that way. The fatigue consumes you, and you drop back down to the bed. Namjoon takes the bottle from you and places it on the side table. His hands massage your calves, working his way along your thighs. His movements could put you to sleep, but you knew as well as he did that this reprieve would not last long. The moon shone through the window casting a faint glowing halo around Namjoon’s head.
He was yours. 
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In the moon's tender glow, we're born anew,
The night's canvas echoes our ancient call,
Omegas and Betas, to their knees they fall,
For the Alpha, bound by destiny's fate.
To lead, to fight, to protect, to mate,
In lunar hours, gaze upon the sky,
Let Luna's wisdom be your guiding light,
Her soothing touch to mend wounds that cry.
When crescent rises, we shall rise as one,
Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun.
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↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.
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colormepurplex2 · 3 months
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Now I'm Yours | JJK
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🤍Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader 🤍A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates | angst, smut, fluff 🤍WC: 14,064 🤍Rating: MA 🤍Summary: Jungkook is terrible at feelings. He’s possessive, reckless, and most definitely an Alphahole; you were once his sworn enemy for a reason. But, after he claimed you as his mate during your designation celebration, how do you even begin to navigate the dark waters of such a precarious relationship? Especially when there is darkness creeping over the horizon, threatening to blanket your world in permanent shadow. ⚠️ Vulgar language, semi-hate sex, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, drinking, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.
Read Make You Mine, the first installment of the series, here!
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Chapter 1. Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
Chapter 2. Feel It In Your Soul
This story is complete.
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A/N: This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the wonderful @hisunshiine! And as always, a special thank you to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for being A+ betas!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02 ColorMePurplex2
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yoonia · 8 days
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Ever A Never After — story masterpost
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⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with. But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?
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⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: [teaser] Ever A Never After: Act 1 (April 25th, 2024) - n/a words of n/a words  ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion
⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After
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⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.
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⟶ Chapters
⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince
⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour
⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings
⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons
⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After
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⟶ Patreon specials
⇢ visual inspiration board
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⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!
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— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
360 notes · View notes
kth1fics · 10 months
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Safe Haven (M) | PJM
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Safe Haven
⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 
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Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.
“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”
“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 
“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.
The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.
A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.
For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.
“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.
Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.
Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 
For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.
Then it happened.
Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.
He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.
Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 
With his head on a silver platter.
Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.
The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.
“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”
“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.
“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”
His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.
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White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.
Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.
Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.
He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.
As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 
Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.
You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.
What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.
He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.
“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.
“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”
“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.
You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.
“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”
“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”
“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”
You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.
“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”
A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.
“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.
Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.
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You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 
One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.
But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.
You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.
Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.
The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.
Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.
You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.
“Princess Y/n.”
A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 
“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”
“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”
“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.
“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”
“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”
You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 
At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.
You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.
The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.
Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.
“Princess –”
“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.
You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.
“You’re upset,” he affirms.
“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”
You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?
Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 
Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.
“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”
Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.
Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.
Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.
“That’s selfish of you.”
You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.
Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 
You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.
Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?
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Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 
You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.
Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.
“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.
But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.
Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.
“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.
You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.
“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.
Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.
Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.
You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.
More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.
You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.
“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.
Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.
They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.
Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.
Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.
A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.
“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.
The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.
“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.
A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.
The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.
You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.
Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.
Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.
You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.
Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.
“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 
It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 
In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.
But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.
“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.
“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”
He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.
“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”
It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.
“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”
You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.
“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.
“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”
Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.
“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”
Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 
He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.
“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”
You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.
“B-But –”
“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 
He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.
Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.
“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.
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Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.
“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.
“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 
The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.
Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 
They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.
“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.
“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”
Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.
You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.
“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.
Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.
The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.
She looks at you with panic, “Run!”
In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 
A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.
One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.
It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.
The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.
He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 
The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.
A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.
“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.
You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.
Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.
You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.
His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.
You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.
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It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.
His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.
Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 
Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.
You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.
“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.
He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.
You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.
A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.
“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”
The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.
His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.
“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.
From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.
“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.
“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.
She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.
You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.
Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.
“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”
You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.
The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.
“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.
“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”
“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.
“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”
All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 
When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.
He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.
“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.
“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.
Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.
“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”
You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.
“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 
You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.
“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.
“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”
“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.
His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.
Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.
“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”
The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.
It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.
“You’re freezing,” he states.
“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.
“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”
He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.
Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.
“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”
“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”
“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”
You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.
“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”
“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”
“I am the royal family!”
“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”
The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.
You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.
“Go.”
The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.
The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.
“Prin –”
“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.
“Just, go.” You command.
“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.
Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.
A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.
It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.
The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.
“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”
Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.
When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?
And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.
Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.
“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”
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Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 
He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.
As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.
He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.
His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.
Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.
He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.
“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.
He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.
Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.
A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.
You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.
Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.
It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.
His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.
Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.
“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”
He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 
This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.
His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.
Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.
For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 
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You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.
Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.
The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.
But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 
Absolutely not.
Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.
You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.
Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.
“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.
Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.
He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.
This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.
You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.
The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.
“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.
“I am being honest with you,” you declare.
“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.
Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.
“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”
You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.
“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.
“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.
You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.
“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 
A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.
“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”
“Why are you still here then…?”
Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.
“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” You blink.
“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.
“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”
“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.
“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”
“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.
“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”
Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.
“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.
“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”
He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.
“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”
In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.
“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”
You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.
His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.
“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”
Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 
There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.
Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.
A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 
When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.
You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.
“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.
“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”
Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.
“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.
“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t,” you sniffle. 
Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.
You accept him and this moment of time.
The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.
The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.
“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”
Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.
He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.
You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.
After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.
Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.
He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.
Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.
“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.
He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.
You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.
Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.
“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.
He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.
Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.
His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.
“Quiet, Princess. Please.”
“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.
“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.
He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.
Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.
Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.
Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.
The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.
“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”
“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.
“Want and need are two different things.”
“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”
He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.
“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”
Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.
“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 
He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.
You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.
“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.
Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 
Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.
“Oh,” you whimper. 
Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.
The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.
“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.
You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.
“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”
Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 
You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.
There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.
“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.
“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.
Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.
Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.
With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.
Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.
It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.
“I love you.”
Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.
You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.
“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.
You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.
“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”
“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 
Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.
“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”
The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.
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Moodboard credit: @/kth1
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© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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cowboylikeyoongi · 1 year
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THE BANGTAN COVEN AS MAJOR ARCANA  » things that go bump in the night 🌙 hyung line version
cr. hybe
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btscreaturescoven · 1 year
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Welcome, Dreadful Darklings, to Bts Creatures Coven - a wicked place for all creatures of the night to congregate and cast their spells!
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apotatomashedbybts · 4 months
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Eleutheria
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or The Exit Part II
皿 Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk × OC (Park Sowon) (reader) / Jung Hoseok × OC (Lee Ji-a)
皿 Genre: Horror; Angst
皿 Trope: speculative horror, supernatural au, established relationship
皿 Word Count: 27.7k+ [sorry (^人^)]
皿 Trigger Warning: description of demonic entity, loss of loved ones, anxiety, injury, suffocating environment, deception, death
皿 Rating:PG13
皿 Banner: apotatomashedbybts
皿 Beta Reader: @theharrowing [my darlingest, Harrow! No matter how much I thank you it won't be enough! Thank you for being so patient with this piece and helping me bringing it to how it is now! Thank you for leaving so many compliments and reactions throughout the story and for putting up with my queries! They mean the world to me! And I feel like I haven't told you enough how amazing you are! Thank you for being the absolutely amazingest! Love you (づ ̄3 ̄)づ╭❤️~]
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皿 Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. Just go with the flow, baby~
皿 Author's Note (I): It's finally here! Omg! It took me so long to complete this part... And idk if I should be proud or embarrassed to say that this isn't the end. There will be multiple chapters coming! Honestly, when I started writing this part I thought the entire story will end in this BUT the more I thought about this story the more it extended, more characters appeared, the story in my head got kinda complicated (?) So I thought I must write whatever's hotchpotch cooking inside my hot head! And it feels like it's just the beginning.
皿 Author's Note (II): It'd mean the world to me if you not only like but also REBLOG and let me know about your thoughts on this! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠). Your feedback gives me the motivation to keep on writing ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ I would love to hear any thoughts! Even if it's an incoherent screech or just a "nice"!
皿 Taglist: @here2bbtstrash ; @sahazzy ; @minisugakoobies ; @sailoryoons ; @kiara-ish
皿 Crosspost: AO3 | Wattpad
皿 Sketches for better understanding: The Sketches
皿 Series Navigation: The Exit ⇰ Eleutheria ⇰ The Balam Manor (Upcoming)
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皿 Summary: Jungkook not reaching home when he was supposed to doesn't sit right with you. You set out in search of him, only to find yourself in a mysterious manor with even more mysterious people who somehow don't seem too willing to let you go.
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You couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling since you last talked to Jeongguk. 
The network on the main road remains intact throughout the way. So it was weird that there was a network disruption even when the weather was fine. 
Your mom and step-father tried to reason that things like these can happen sometimes and told you to just accept the odds. But it was too much of an odd that you couldn't connect to him once even after trying his number innumerable times and that he hadn’t arrived even by dawn when it hardly takes half an hour to forty-five minutes from where Jeongguk last called you - De Ville's Crest. 
Being a detective, you had seen the worst of what not taking action in time could do to a person. So without wasting any more time you took your car and went out to search for Jeongguk as soon as dawn gave into its first moment of morning. 
After getting out of the De Ville’s Crest, you continued to drive on the main road towards the city.
Throughout the way you looked for any sign of accidents and to your relief there weren’t any. 
Asking each and every store and commercial places on the way didn’t give you any desired answers either. 
It generally takes about two and a half hours from De Ville’s Crest to reach the junction but today it took you almost four hours. 
The grocery store at the junction of the main road and the shortcut, which barely anyone used, to The Moore Estate,  caught your attention. 
You had been traveling on this road as far as your memory took you back, but in those memories there was never a grocery store like this in this lonely intersection. 
If it wasn’t for the board hung up on top of the door saying “Taehyung Groceries”, you would have mistaken it for a greenhouse with its clean glass exterior that sparkled in sunlight and the numerous plants inside that made the products kept inside hard to notice. 
That’s a rather fancy grocery store. You thought to yourself. 
But what intrigued you the most to approach the store were the CCTV cameras placed outside the store — one facing the main road and one to the shortcut. 
Maybe one of them caught something…
You stopped your car in front of the store and went inside in hopes of getting some information. 
The air that greeted you upon entering carried a subtle scent of fresh rain and the forest at dawn that you sometimes visited with your step-dad, mixed with a light soothing scent of sandalwood incense and you found it extremely easy to breathe, as if you could sense the air get in and out of you.
Behind the counter you saw an old lady who looked 60-something. With a soft smile adorning her face she almost looked like she was glowing in her white full sleeve cotton shirt, white straight-leg trousers and white straight hair that flowed effortlessly reaching her hips. 
As soon as you crossed the threshold you heard her say, voice just above a whisper, “You are here!”
“Sorry?” You asked, surprised at her unusual greeting. 
“Nothing, my dear. Tell me what you want.” She smiled and walked out from behind the counter. 
You were quick to accept her explanation as you didn't have any patience to ponder about a greeting that she might have uttered whimsically. 
Hurriedly taking out your phone you showed her a picture of Jeongguk and asked, “Can you please tell me if you have seen him some time yesterday?” 
She took the phone from your hand and looked at it with squinted eyes for a couple seconds and then while passing it to you she said, “Oh my! Yes! I saw this gentleman yesterday. He bought a bottle of water from me a little after midnight. He asked me about the shortcut to The Moore Estate.”
Your eyes looked hopeful for the first time since last night but it was quick to give up that glint as soon as you heard about the shortcut. 
“Are you sure that he actually took the shortcut?” You enquired, trying to hold on to the possibility of him not actually taking it. 
The old lady pondered for a couple seconds before replying, “Well, we can always check the CCTV footage.” 
“Really? Can you please check? That would really help me a lot!” You exclaimed, both hopeful and grateful. 
“Of course. Why not?” The old lady answered and went back to her counter where her computer was. 
After a couple minutes of impatient waiting, you got called and you almost ran the short distance. 
The footage was from the CCTV facing the shortcut and it was showing Jeongguk’s car entering the shortcut at around 12:30 am. The footage wasn’t able to record much since it seemed like as soon as Jeongguk’s car entered that foreboding road it was swallowed by an impenetrable darkness. 
You covered your face that contorted in fear and helplessness. Your legs felt like jelly. As if sensing that the lady offered you a tool to sit down. 
“Why? Why does this keep happening to me?” You whimpered.
The strange string of incidents surrounding you resulting in the disappearance of your loved ones seemed to pull you at the throat, keeping you suffocated. 
First your dad, then your best friend Hoseok, and now Jeongguk. 
You felt like you were stuck in a terrible horror game and you were failing every level. 
The shortcut was famously infamous for being one of the creepiest and most dangerous areas in the state. And only people who didn't know about this route’s fame went in it. 
There had been numerous reports of people going missing over the years after taking this road at night. 
The authorities tried to investigate the place in search of potential criminal activities behind missing persons but found none — adding to its reputation. 
But what terrified you the most was your dad's repeated warning that still echoed in your ears, “Never ever take the shortcut to The Moore Estate at night. Not even in your dreams.” 
Thinking about your dad's ceaseless warnings and what could have happened to your boyfriend, your head felt light. 
“If I hurry I can still stop something bad from happening to him, right?” You thought and got up to leave. 
But the lady held your hand and said with that kind smile intact on her face, “You are my first customer today and it’s time for breakfast, you must be hungry. Have some sandwiches before you leave.”
She was right. No matter how much of an emotional wreckage you were, your body had its demands and the low grumble in your stomach was a definite whistle-blower. 
You sat down obediently and the lady brought two fluffy egg and bacon sandwiches on a plate for you. You told yourself that you must shove these down your throat and get going but these were hands down the best sandwiches you ever had, and God knew how hard you were trying not to relish on the taste or the relaxation that spread throughout your frazzled back instantly after you took the first bite.
As you were paying for the food and taking back the change in the counter, the lady asked, “Are you going to find your boyfriend?”
“Yes! I must hurry.” You nodded. 
The fact that you didn't mention to her about Jeongguk being your boyfriend had totally gone out of your mind. You also brushed off the fact that she used ‘find’ instead of ‘search’ in her question.
She lightly caressed your hair with a single stroke and smiled, “I hope you do. Here take this,” saying so, she handed you what seemed like a cookie the size of your palm, wrapped in a bluish silver wrapper, “for when you need it. This is on the house so don’t worry about paying. Now off you go.” 
Maybe it was because of the overpowering soft glow of hers that prevented you from noticing her eyes thus far which were so deeply pain-stricken that you couldn’t help but hug her and mentally said, “Everything’s going to be fine.” 
You wondered why you even said that when you should be the one to be told that instead. 
The lady gently patted your head and you felt a gentle whisper inside your head, “I know.” 
You couldn’t pinpoint but something about that and her hug cooled your nerves. 
Thanking her for the info and the food, you hurried outside and sped into the forbidding shortcut. 
The sun was bright above your head and you have been driving for almost an hour now at your topmost speed. But you hadn't come across any turning. The road went straight ahead without branching.
After another hour of driving you reached The Moore Estate, without noticing anything unusual.
I must be doing something wrong. 
You let out a frustrated sigh and ran your hand through your hair while turning your car around and starting again towards the road that you came from. 
But you were left disappointed again when even after reaching back at the junction you couldn't find the turning or any sign of Jeongguk's car. 
Stopping your car at the junction, you lowered your head on the steering wheel and tried to clear your mind.
Then as if suddenly having an epiphany a memory from eleven years ago played inside your head. 
Due to an emergency at home, your dad was taking you home from your boarding school late at night. You were fifteen then. 
Time in hand was short so your dad had decided to take the shortcut. You faintly remembered seeing a gas station but what you clearly remembered now was what your dad had said after crossing them at a speed of 130 km/hr. 
While keeping his sharp eyes on the road and never going down under the speed of 100, your dad had told you, “Do you wanna know a fun fact? Did you see that gas station that we crossed a while ago? It only appears after midnight. In the daytime you can never see it.” 
You remembered your dad’s tear laden face with which he had made you promise, “Promise me, you'll never take the shortcut after midnight! And even if you do, you won't stop anywhere in the middle. And no matter what happens, you won't take the road to Devil's Crest!”
Even though you didn't believe him back then, counting it as his way to scare you, you never took the shortcut - until today. 
And before the curious-you could ask him about what he said that night, your dad had disappeared from your life without a trace.
“I am sorry dad. I have to break the promise today. I have to find Jeongguk.” You whispered as you felt your tears trying to push their way out of your throat. 
Shaking off the sadness and the tears from your eyes, a technique that you had learned from Jeongguk and had countlessly teased him about, you looked at the time - it was 2 pm. 
You had 10 hours in hand.
You closed your eyes to think. You have to utilise the time properly and so you decided to go back home and come back with a few things that might come in handy. 
After reaching home, needless to say that you were bombarded with questions. 
You couldn't tell them that you would have explained everything to them if things were that easily explainable. But it wasn't, so you just told them to trust you and that you were going to find him. 
The last bit seemed like a reassurance to yourself. You were not sure if what you were thinking was right or not. But you ardently hoped it was. 
Packing your bag with warm clothes for both you and Jeongguk, a power bank for your phone, a strong fully charged flashlight, several water bottles, a first aid kit, your fully loaded desert eagle gun, and a compass, you started on your journey to find Jeongguk after having dinner. 
When you reached the junction, it was already dark and the moon was in the middle of the sky. 
The almost full moon was enthralling and you couldn't help but sigh and pray to it to look after Jeongguk and help you find him as quickly as possible. 
As night turned into midnight the number of vehicles on the main road decreased exponentially. The coldness started to settle onto the ground more rapidly and the surroundings were gradually getting abandoned by the signs of the city. The only trace of human civilization was the dim light coming from the old lady's grocery store. 
It was time to go but just before you were about to start your engine, your stomach growled loudly. 
You clicked your tongue disapprovingly and with a short sigh opened your bag to look for some snacks, but were quick to curse yourself when you realised that you had forgotten to pack any. 
But just then you remembered the cookie that the old lady had given you. You thanked her mentally and opened it. Was it your eyes playing tricks or did the dim light of the grocery store shine brighter for a second before going dim again?
The cookie was big - enough to defeat your hunger for now. The aroma of it was instantly appetising and after you tasted it, you regretted not getting more from her. You didn’t know whether it was just your luck or a weird coincidence that the cookie tasted of your favourite flavours — butter, orange, cashew — mixed to perfect ratio. But now there wasn't any time. So you quickly started munching on it. 
When you reached the middle of it you found a piece of paper inside and exclaimed, “Ah! So it's a fortune cookie!” 
Putting the rest of the cookie in your mouth in one go, you started reading it in the car light. 
The writing was written in golden block letters on a black paper and it read — 
WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN
IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN 
“Hmm...?” You were confused. It seemed more like a riddle than a fortune. 
You read it a couple times more and then kept it in your cargo trouser pocket with a shrug because you couldn't understand what it could mean. 
Before starting your engine you looked at the moon and prayed, “Please dad, look after Jeongguk for me while I get there.” 
••• 
The road was unsettlingly dark and your car headlights couldn't pierce further than a foot through it. 
The moonlight that was brightening the surroundings with its light just a while ago seemed to have disappeared. You couldn't even see the moon anymore. 
As if it was a sign that you have entered the forbidden shortcut now.
You drove really slow in order to avoid hitting something. 
And after driving for about twenty minutes you saw it - the gas station. 
Your fuel meter's arrow was almost near empty even though you had filled it full near the junction just before leaving. 
Your brows knitted themselves together but you decided not to stop. More so because you remembered your dad’s warning. You didn’t have any business in there anyways.
While driving past it you saw a lanky old man standing at the edge of the gas station as if waiting for you to enter. And when you crossed past it you saw him in the side mirror of your car - staring right at the mirror. 
You felt like he was staring right back at you as if he knew you were looking at him. 
You felt a chilly feeling run right through your spine and you pressed onto the accelerator to get out of the vicinity of the station as soon as possible. 
Has the road always been this long? 
Your doubtful gaze wandered over to your phone and you saw that it was almost 3 in the morning; that meant you had been driving for nearly three hours now. 
You were supposed to reach The Moore Estate by this time but you couldn't seem to get out of this seemingly never ending dark road. 
Another strange occuring caught your eyes that you had forgotten all this while - your fuel. The arrow which was near the empty mark near the gas station was now hovering in the near full section, right where it should be. 
Was it your eyes playing a trick with you again or was it really a deception caused by the negative entities present there to make one enter the gas station, you wondered. 
Fearing that you might miss the turning again you slowed down even more and stopped yourself from zoning out, but just then your phone alarm went off making you jump. You had forgotten that you had set an alarm at 3:03 am - when Jeongguk had called you. 
And then you saw it - Devil's Crest. 
An arrow-shaped wooden signboard with the name etched on it in a deep red colour, that almost gave the impression of dried blood on rotten wood, was pointing towards a road that had magically branched, creating a turning — leading to an obscurity.
You stopped your car and took a deep breath. A few slow breaths later, the fear of encountering something vicious began to settle on your shoulders. 
The repeated voice of your father telling – “never take the road to Devil's Crest, never take the road to Devil's Crest” – began to reverberate inside your head so loudly that you had to sit down, hold your head and pray for it to go away. 
Why now? Why now of all times? You felt miserable as tears started wetting your lashes. 
Jeongguk! You have to find Jeongguk! You slapped your ears in an attempt to make the voice go away and started taking deep slow breaths to calm yourself down. 
That seemed to work and a few minutes later the voices inside your head had died down. 
Parking your car off the road, you took your backpack and with the flashlight in your hand you stood in front of the signboard. 
The road ahead was iniquitously eerie, and not to mention, dark just like the rest of the area. It made you uneasy and your legs revolted to move. 
You took out the phone from your pocket to see the time but just then something fell off - it was the paper from the cookie. 
You picked it up and in the flashlight you read it again instinctively - 
WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN
IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN
“When roads are misleading... Never take the road to Devil's Crest…” you mumbled a couple times. Something told you that these two sentences juxtaposing like this was not a mere coincidence and that there must be some connection and intention behind them. 
“What could it be? What could it be?” You asked yourself and swung the flashlight haphazardly around the road and then your eyes and your flashlight loosely hovered over the overgrown bushes and the trees by the side of the road to Devil's Crest and you thought, 
What if I don't take the road and still enter the Devil's Crest? 
As soon as the thought crossed your mind, your legs felt light and a small amount of fear transformed into relief. 
You made your way through the overgrown weeds and grasses in between the trees and thought to go on a parallel line along the road but as soon as you struggled your way through the undergrowth and entered the woods you couldn't see the road anymore, as if you had mistakenly entered a whole different area.
You went back to where you entered and there you saw the Devil's Crest turning and the road. There was no way you were mistaken. 
“It must be because of the darkness,” you told yourself and re-entered the doomy forest. 
You stood there for a moment, worried that it’s going to be difficult to reach the destination, no matter how unknown, if you couldn’t see the road. What if you get lost in this darkness without any way out? 
But this awry feeling at the back of your mind telling you that this was the only way was too heavy, and so with the flashlight being the only source of light, you started walking straight ahead. 
You have been walking for a while now and except the occasional hooting of the owls and a constant chirping of the crickets there was nothing to keep you company. 
You didn't know where exactly to look at since this indomitable darkness was swallowing the light of your flashlight which resulted in you seeing only about a foot around your steps, nothing more. 
You called out Jeongguk's name constantly at regular intervals but with your calls dissipating in the woods, what came back to you as a reply was the annoyed chirps of the sleepy birds. 
You avoided swinging your flashlight around the woods in fear of witnessing something scary and you cursed your brain for reminding you all the countless horror movies you have ever watched right at the moment.
Disappointed and tired, you stopped for a water break and looked at the time. You had been walking for 45 minutes now and with you walking slowly because of the protruding branches and thorns grabbing onto your pants, there seemed to be little to no progress. You looked up and the moon and the stars were still absent, the sky was still black. 
Refusing to give up or take a break you dragged yourself forward with slow steps, on an energy saving mode. 
But then you saw it. Clearly. You were not surrounded by darkness anymore. You had reached a clearing from whose center four clear trails were going four ways and everything was grey, like a black-and-white movie. The moonlight illuminating the area after appearing so suddenly took you by surprise, making you come to an abrupt stop. 
You rubbed your eyes and looked back where you just came out from — it was still lightless. 
Everything around you seemed like something from a fever dream. 
I haven’t fallen asleep in the car, have I? You pinched yourself hard and you felt it quite realistically. 
What the fuck is this place? You glanced around while rubbing the area you pinched. 
Up until you were inside the forest area it smelled like any other woodland - a little musty and damp, rotten woods, several sweet fragrance coming from trees and moist earth. But as soon as you stepped into this part there was a drastic change in the odour. It smelt like cold steel and it set a little heavier on your nose. And then you noticed another weird thing in this already weird environment — a crossroad signpost with four wooden arrows pointing at four different directions making an X, where the trails met. 
Generally, a crossroad signpost at an intersection was something that is very very normal. But here, what made it strange was its heads not pointing towards the trails, instead the areas in between. 
You took a deep breath and walked over to the post. You looked at it intently with your flashlight. They were simple wood cutouts with nothing written on them. 
What are they even pointing at? You directed your flashlight at the grassy areas and each one of the trails. The trails were wide enough for three people to walk side by side and their condition indicated that they were used for regular commute. 
Something felt off. As far as you knew, people avoided taking the shortcut altogether. As far as its bad reputation goes, it seemed highly unlikely that there would be people using these isolated areas to travel. Also, the part of the forest that you came out from didn’t have a trail going in its direction. You were standing in one of the grassy areas just like the areas in between the other trails. That could also mean that one of these trails was connected to the road to the Devil’s Crest for it to at least take the travellers somewhere closer in this area. 
Earlier, just before entering the forest you had checked on your needle compass that the road to the Devil’s Crest was headed south. It was a complete wild guess, an arrow in the darkness, but you decided to take the trail that was headed south. 
You took out your compass from your jacket pocket and faced the southward trail. 
This should be fine, right? You took a long deep breath that made your shoulder go up and down. 
You stared at the road ahead but a heavy feeling in your gut made your body immobile. It made your heart scream to your mind, “I don’t wanna go there.” Your body was stiffening itself in its place, refusing to move forward — an instinctive stance to avoid whatever danger that might be lying ahead. 
You didn’t know how many minutes had passed with you just standing there. As if to give you a nudge, a chilly wind started to blow and a gauzy fog began to settle on the ground. 
To avoid the cold you hung the flashlight on your shoulder by its strings and put both your hands in your puffer jacket pocket. 
Inside your jacket pocket you found the wrapper of the cookie that you ate earlier. You took it out and as soon as you did a gust of wind blew it out of your hand. 
The wrapper, oddly shining in this dull grey environment, flew over to the grassy area to the left side of the southward trail. Along with the wind, the still-motionless fog began to mobilise. Instinctively you dashed towards the wrapper, passing the crossroad signpost, to retrieve it. But before that, for a split second you were quite certain that you noticed the fog through your peripheral vision floating on the trails, mobilized by the wind, moving towards where the trails lead to and there was no trace of them on the rest of the areas.
After grabbing the wrapper you turned around to confirm what you just saw but what you witnessed made you falter backward and you tripped on your own foot and fell on the ground. 
I must be going crazy! What in the Alice In Wonderland shit is this? 
You broke into a cold sweat. You felt the remaining energy from your body leave like a sheet that was covering you, gliding away from you. You were nothing but an object now. 
And your surroundings were nothing but empty now.
It was as if in those past fraction of seconds you weren’t looking, someone had erased everything — there was no crosspost signboard, neither were there any trails. It was just a vast field covered in small grasses, all nothing but grey.
Sitting there you forgot that you had to be somewhere. Your numb brain couldn’t say anything to your body and you sat there staring blankly at the now-empty space in front of you. You could hear a faint constant ringing inside your ears and a slow darkness gradually took over your eyes. 
A yellow light on your eyelids, shivers all over your body and the noise of accumulated chirping made you sit up with a startle. Still heavy with sleep, you rubbed your eyes to wake yourself up properly. 
The first rays of the sun were just touching the area and you discovered the reason behind your shivers. You were sleeping on the ground, under the open sky and needless to say the dews had settled upon you alongside everything. 
You looked around your surroundings - it was the same field that you saw before passing out, except it was now full of colour. The steel-like smell was long gone, instead the air was filled with the smell of wet grass. The sun rays fell upon the dark green leafy trees of the forest that surrounded the field covered in grasses, some plump green, many golden yellow and a few parched brown. Flocks of birds flew across the sky in search of food and the wetness under you seeping through your clothes was making its presence more prominent to you.
The normality of it all made you question whether what you witnessed just a few hours ago was even real. Maybe you had dreamt all of it, you wondered. And that made more sense to you. It definitely was a dream, you concluded. You had been traveling all day and night yesterday without any proper rest and the constant anxiety, along with the trip through the forest must have taken a toll on you. 
Lying down for such a long time in such an uncomfortable position on your side with the haversack still on your back had made your body sore. You took off the haversack and stretched your limbs and massaged your shoulders to make some of the soreness go away. Rubbing your face to remove the leftover haziness from your mind, you got up to get a better view of your surroundings. You were on a comparatively higher ground, which merged to a plain with a gentle slope and you noticed in the far south which seemed hardly a kilometre away from where you were — a mansion built in the old English style. 
“Have I wandered into someone’s private property?” You wondered, even though you were pretty sure you hadn’t noticed any warnings or boundaries on your way here.
Many people didn’t like strangers wandering inside their property and the residents of this mansion could very possibly be one of those, but in this situation your best shot was to risk the chance of getting kicked out with profanities and ask about your missing boyfriend, a way out of this forest to some nearby locality and if they were kind enough, then a moment’s proper rest. 
You put on your haversack and picked up the flashlight that was lying on the ground, luckily unscathed, by your side. 
The valley was uneven like waves which could go unnoticed unless walked on, making it strenuous to cross, but the weather in the morning was really soothing, which made you feel like everything was gonna be alright, and occasionally you stopped to take a brief breather by soaking in the sun with your eyes closed. 
Before your clothes could dry up in the breeze on the way, you found yourself standing in front of the main gate of the mansion. 
The mansion, even though built in the old English style, hardly seemed historic. It was well-cared with a similarly pampered garden.
The latch of the iron gate was unclasped and a stone slab to the right of the gate on the low boundary wall read - The Balam Manor. 
You felt like you had heard the name somewhere before but you couldn’t trigger that particular part of your memory.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” you whispered before letting yourself in through the gate. 
Another sixty metres walk and you were in front of the main door. It had one of those ropes attached with a bell system instead of electronic doorbells. 
You took a deep breath and rang the bell thrice and for the next several minutes you stood there with rapid tapping feets and drifting eyes.
A very tall old man opened the door who you could swear to have seen somewhere before. You looked up and stared at his face trying to figure out this odd sense of knowing but you were soon pulled out of your rigorous digging through your brain by his question, “Yes? How may I help you?” 
“I am sorry for disturbing your perfect morning, good sir, but actually I have come looking for someone and I was wondering if you have seen that person somewhere.” You smiled awkwardly and hoped for your flattery to work to a certain extent. 
The old man scanned you once from head to toe then back to your eyes. Then turning his neck to give a quick glance inside he turned back to you and replied, “Please wait a second. I’ll be right back.” 
Hardly a minute had passed before he came back and he said, “Please take your footwear off and come inside. Our ladyship has permitted you to be invited in.” 
Wow… I never thought I would hear this type of sentence in real life. Do I have to talk like that too? You thought but all you could really say was - thank you. 
The old man led you through a short hallway whose walls were decked out with paintings varying in sizes but all equally gorgeous and weirdly had the same theme — water. 
Midway through the hall room there were two majestic curved staircases leading to the first floor, merging into one platform overhead. 
You were guided into a large lavish living room crossing the staircases, which justified the mansion of such grace. The theme colour of the room was dark navy which adorned the couches, the fireplace, the walls, the curtains and was perfectly balanced with hints of gold and light brown. 
You were mesmerized and couldn’t stop admiring the space you had entered with your mouth agape. 
“Please take a seat. Her grace will be here shortly.” Saying that, the old man disappeared into the right wing hallway of the house. 
You nodded and sat there with fidgety fingers but your eyes were still busy praising all the ornate stuff decorated meticulously.
The room, greatly flooded with sunlight seeping in through the large windows, somehow smelt cold, as if the window was just opened prior to your entrance. But soon it was overcome by the smell of a perfume that felt like a lot of flowers mixed together, almost too sweet for your delicate nose, that seemed to have drifted in earlier than its owner could. 
With the mystery not remaining in hiding any longer, the owner appeared from the right hallway and you found yourself immediately standing up in the presence of an overpowering aura. 
The lady, standing almost at a height of 6ft, was wearing a solid black mermaid gown with a side-buttoned velvet blazer that hugged her slim torso so firmly that it seemed to be doing the work of a corset instead. Her black hair was made into a 50s starlet style and her makeup, in contrast to all the darkness in her dress-up, was light peachy. 
You thought it would be rude to cover your nose in front of her but the smell of the flowers was almost dizzying. Then a second smell hit you. It was of burnt wood. It was lingering subtly in the air and there was no way for you to know where it was coming from. 
The lady gestured you to sit down and she herself sat on the single seater sofa opposite to you. 
“I heard from Duri that you came here looking for someone?” 
“Yes. Let me first apologise for inconveniencing you like this. A complete stranger showing up at your doorstep early in the morning must be bothersome.” 
“Oh, not at all. We get visitors once in a blue moon. So seeing new faces around here is actually a treat for us old souls.” 
Her amicable mood made you feel relieved and your shoulders relaxed visibly. 
“Us old souls? Ma’am, you are far too young to be called an old soul.” Your compliment made her blush.
She smiled shyly and said, “Then I guess my makeup is on point today.” 
You opened your mouth to protest with some more compliments but she started talking. 
“So who are you looking for? We actually might be of some help.” 
With hopeful eyes, you briefly told her about your boyfriend going missing on his way to Moore estate and how you had been searching for him. Intentionally you kept all the help and the supernatural things to yourself. 
“We may have good news for you. We rescued a young man yesterday around dawn at the border of our property. Would you like to visit him and see if he is the boyfriend you mentioned?” The lady asked you with a sympathetic tone. 
You jumped at the possibility and stood up, “Yes! Please! Let me see him.” 
“Sure.” The lady stood up. “Follow me.” Saying so, she started walking towards the left hallway from the entrance. You followed her gliding steps. She stopped in front of the last room, and with a quick yet heavy exhale she opened the door. 
You entered behind her and rushed to the king size bed when she made way for you. 
It was Jeongguk. It really was Jeongguk. He was lying on the bed on his back with the lower half of his body covered in a comforter. He had a white cotton henley shirt with lace string on which you recognised wasn’t his. He was breathing slowly and he had a bandage going around his head which ran through the middle of his forehead. 
You sat by his side on the floor and held his hand. You couldn’t begin to express how grateful you were. The heavy stone in your heart was finally melting and you gave in to the urge of crying that you had been holding since yesterday. 
“Thank you. Thank you for being here.” Holding his right hand, you rubbed it gently against your forehead and placed a long kiss on it. 
Seeing no response from him, worry started to settle in your mind again. You turned towards the lady and asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, what happened to him? Why isn’t he responding?” 
“Oh dear.” The lady briskly walked towards you and reached out her hand towards you. You took a few seconds to grasp what she was trying to do and then you slowly placed your hand in hers and let her guide you up towards the small couch that was seated beside the window of the room. 
Sitting so close to her, the burning smell along with the stinging flowery scent hit your nose brutally. You let out a quick cough to ease that squeezing feeling around you.
She held your hand in a sympathetic manner and began to explain, “Yesterday dawn, at around 4 am, Duri found him near our border property in the far south. He was unconscious which seemed to have resulted from him driving straight into a tree ahead. Duri brought him to our home immediately. We have an in-house doctor who treated him but he hasn’t regained consciousness since. The doctor has informed us that he is out of any life-threatening danger. He just needs to regain his consciousness. So don’t worry. He is doing better than you are giving him credit for.” 
She smiled at you but you couldn’t help but feel anxious. You glanced at Jeongguk for a mere second and asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to take him to a hospital now instead of just waiting? I am sorry. I am not trying to undermine your doctor’s judgment but it’s just that a hospital seems to be a more efficient option. So if you don’t mind, please can you tell your attendants to show me where Jeongguk’s car is? I think it'd be better if I get going right now.” 
The room was dimly lit by a candle lamp and the sunlight was playing hide and seek with the room by seeping in through the heavily drawn curtains which were slowly quivering because of the wind trying to get inside from outside. 
In that flickering light you felt like you saw the lady’s face harden for a split second before easing into an almost condescending smile, “Oh dear, you mustn’t have properly heard what I was saying earlier. I can understand. Grief, anxiety, stress do that to people. His car had driven straight ahead into a tree so it’s severely damaged. A mechanic is currently working on it in one of our warehouses.”
“Then can I at least use your phone to call an ambulance? I think that’d be an even better option anyway. He’ll start getting treatment on the way.” 
“We don’t have cellular networks here. Neither do we have a landline connection. You must have noticed that there are no electric wires near our mansion. In case of emergencies, Duri himself has to go and bring back any expert needed. I am afraid we live an exceptionally solitary life. If we had a car we could have arranged for his transportation at the earliest hour but as you can tell we are very old fashioned so we only use horses and carriages which I daresay is not the best option to have him ride on in this condition. I would suggest you to save your worry and hope that his car gets repaired soon. I’ll leave you be until then.” 
The lady, without sparing another glance, walked out of the room, leaving you wondering if you said something that offended her greatly. 
You couldn’t understand why this household would choose to live in such helpless conditions when the world has progressed so much. What if there was a life or death situation? They wouldn’t even be able to get some help. 
You sighed heavily and dragging a chair you sat near Jeongguk. You thought it would be best to just wait for his car to get repaired then get out of here as soon as possible. The people here had already gone out of their way for your boyfriend. It was rude of you to question and tell them what would be better when they were already doing their best with everything at their disposal. 
You held your boyfriend’s hand, which felt colder than it did a moment ago and said, “I should say sorry, right? I’ll be right back.” 
You placed a chaste kiss on his hand and pulled the comforter upto his neck before leaving the room to look for the lady of the house and also for the doctor; Jeongguk’s temperature wasn’t normal. 
The living room was empty. In fact, you didn’t get the hint of anybody being present throughout your way. You felt like you were the only one in the entire mansion. 
There was an eerie feeling that sat in your gut and just to confirm that weird suspicion, you ran back to the room where Jeongguk was. You let out a quick relieved sigh as soon as you saw Jeongguk, just as you had left him. 
You let your body let itself find comfort in the cushiony chair and you decided to look for others a little later. You told yourself that no matter how detached this place was from the rest of the world, the people living here still have work to do. They couldn’t loiter around some unannounced guest all the time. 
•••
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the atmosphere was quite grim for Lady Ruth Livingston and her loyal servant Duri. 
This kitchen was located in an extended part of the mansion, outside the main building and could only be accessed through a secret passage built along the rear side wall of the building. Apparently, according to her husband, Mr. Yi Jaejoong, kitchen inside a home ruins the vibe of the home. The secret passageway, while serving as a regular route for the servants for accessing the different parts of the manor like the kitchens, the laundry rooms and the servant quarters, also served the role of an escapeway and had a backdoor for emergency exit if there was any danger. Although, there was no way of telling the back door from the outside since it was camouflaged with the entire wall — much like the windows that were lined up with the windows of the main living room, creating optical illusions of a singular wall in place of two. 
After leaving you alone inside the mansion, Lady Ruth had immediately made her way towards the kitchen with a grave expression on her face. As soon as she neared the kitchen, Duri, who was preparing meat for jjigae, brought the cushioned mahogany chair that was only used by his owner and kept it near the entrance, outside the kitchen — for the lady had a deep distaste for heat.
“Are you quite done with the preparations?” Lady Ruth asked after taking her seat. 
Duri, who had immediately taken his position near his lady’s feet, sat kneeling down while supporting his hips on his ankles for some comfort. 
He slowly shook his head and answered, “Not really, milady. It seems preparing physical food is quite the task.” 
“Then summon some minions and get it done at the earliest. The lass is getting on my nerves. I can’t figure out how she ended up here!” 
“Surely, milady.” Duri gave a polite nod. 
“Are you keeping something from me?” Seeing his owner leaning towards him, Duri gulped and then stuttered, “I- I saw her last night driving past the station.” 
“Did you do what you were supposed to?” With her face awfully close to Duri’s, she ran a single line with her cold index finger from near Duri’s ear across, over his jaw line. 
“I d- did, milady. But she never stopped for gas!” Noticing the little tremors running through Duri’s hand, Lady Ruth smirked. 
“Must I remind you that your job is to lead people into the Devil’s Crest no matter how! You must feed them or their belongings. If you don’t do your job properly how am I supposed to take care of myself? You are not supposed to slack off, Duri. See what happened, just because you let someone off the hook and they didn’t stop at your stupid little gas station! This must mean you have let a good number of souls just go by without me knowing!” 
Duri’s lips trembled. “I… I- I am extremely sorry, milady. It won’t ever happen again. P- Please I beg for your forgiveness.” 
“Oh, Duri… I wish it was this easy for me to forgive. One must punish disobedient pets to make sure they don’t repeat the same mistake twice. You have been ignorant while knowing what I feel. And more times than you should be forgiven for. I think I must remind you again what it feels like to be me so you could be more diligent next time.” 
Lady Ruth Livingston snaked her left hand behind Duri’s neck and held his jaw firmly with her other hand and placed her lips on his. In her firm hold, Duri couldn’t protest. He closed his eyes as he felt her tongue touch his and her fingers pressed on the binding emblem on his neck. Duri winced as a fast burning sensation spread across his entire body. The mild sensation soon turned into a blazing fire all over his body. Duri’s screams got lost somewhere inside Lady Ruth’s mouth. 
By the time it ended, Duri had no energy to even stay seated. In barely a minute, he was half his usual body and his skin developed new wrinkles.
Looking at Duri’s wheezing body on the floor, Lady Ruth wiped her lips and said, “My husband would have been so heartbroken if he saw me shoving my tongue down some other man’s throat.” She smiled and gently stroked Duri’s hair, “I am so glad that he is dead.” 
Duri weakly glanced at her but couldn’t say anything. 
Seeing him like that, Lady Ruth got up and said, “My poor Duri. I’ll summon the minions in your stead to have the lunch prepared in time. She has a strong aura. Her distress will ease my pain like no other.” 
•••
“When do you think you’ll be able to come and visit my parents?” You asked and smiled bashfully, imagining Jeongguk asking your parents for your hand in marriage. 
“I seriously can’t wait, babe. I just want to run to you right now and take you in my arms and kiss you until you get tired of it!” Jeongguk exclaimed, hardly being able to contain his happiness or excitement.
“You mean until forever ends?” You replied. 
“Mhm. Yes, that’s exactly how long I am planning.” You could feel Jeongguk’s smile through the call. 
“You have to get here first though.”
“I’m getting out right now! How am I going to wait for seven whole hours? Hm? My sweetest wifey?” 
“Woah. Not yet, mister.”
“Soon to be. Soon to be~.” 
“Yes… Very soon. But you don't have to rush. You can just come here on the weekend. Otherwise your boss will give you an earful.” 
“But-” 
“No ‘buts’. I promise I'll be fine. And it's just three days anyways.” 
“Hmph. Okay. Fine. I love you.”
“I love you too.” 
That fateful morning everything in your little world in Moore Estate changed when you found out you were pregnant. When you called Jeongguk to let him know, he reciprocated the same happiness as you felt. You felt like a large part of your empty heart was filling up. 
But soon everything took an upsetting turn when you received a call from Hoseok’s sister that same evening about Hoseok going missing. 
A couple of months ago Hoseok had moved into a mansion in the outskirts that a long-distance uncle of his had left for him in his will. Hoseok had been in a hurry to move out and get married so he had leaped at the offer and wanted to move in as soon as possible to remodel the mansion. After that, communication with him gradually became scarce which you just ruled out as him being busy remodeling the house. 
You wanted to visit his mansion right away but when you called Jeongguk to let him know about the situation he strictly opposed it and insisted on accompanying you there. 
Your estate fell on the way to Hoseok’s new place, though it was still a considerable distance away. So you had suggested to Jeongguk to pick you up from your estate and then both of you could go there together. 
Now all of it screamed wrong decision and you blamed yourself for not warning your boyfriend beforehand. 
•••
“Excuse me, milady. Her grace is waiting for you in the living room. Please let me lead you. We have prepared some refreshments.” Your remorseful revisitation to that day was interrupted by Duri who was standing at the door. 
“Sure.” You got up. You looked back at Jeongguk and said, “I’ll be right back.” 
You followed Duri — who appeared a bit worn out and definitely older than he seemed that morning — to the living room. You sat on a two seater sofa opposite the lady of the house; the ornate low table in front of you was filled with a huge variety of cookies and a cup of ginseng tea was kept in front of you. 
“I am really sorry. I feel like it was really rude of me how I talked to you earlier. You are not obliged to but you are still helping us so much. I can’t even begin to thank you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you?” You said, thinking it was only fair to apologise since she only offered what she thought was best. 
“We can start with introductions. I am Ruth Amelia Livingston.” Lady Ruth took her cup of tea from the table and signalled you to take yours before taking a sip. 
You stammered before answering, surprised at her instant acceptance of your apology, “S- sure. I am Park Sowon.” 
“That’s a beautiful name. I have never really liked my name, so my husband always lovingly called me Balam. He used to say that I am ungraspable like the wind.” Putting the hot cup on the plate in her left hand she smiled sadly. 
“Used to? He doesn’t anymore?” You asked without thinking.
“Well, yes. I wish you could meet him. He was a jolly man. When he was alive, this building felt alive too. He took its life with him when he left for the afterworld.” 
“I am sorry… for your loss. It must be really hard losing the love of your life… I can’t even begin to imagine how I am going to continue to live on if something happens to Jeongguk.” Your voice cracked remembering the fact that you almost did. 
“Well, you learn to live with the pain… I loved him alright. But he… loved me more. I daresay I am rather thankful that he didn’t live to see my death.” Her nonchalant words left you momentarily speechless. 
Before the atmosphere could get awkward you said, smiling thinly, “Accepting to be in sorrow rather than letting your loved one live in that situation is an act of tremendous love in itself. I think you love your husband as much as he used to.”
“Oh my, aren’t you a charmer? Thank you, dear. You are the first person whose words comforted me so deeply since my husband’s passing.” She kept her right hand on yours and looked at you with a warm smile, unlike her frigid hands; you noticed her tears staying at the edge of her eyelid margin. 
“I think I should apologise too.” She continued after sitting straight. 
You looked at her questioningly while picking up the third cookie from the plate. 
“As I told you earlier, we live in a completely different world than yours. And I was inconsiderate of your feelings, quite shamefully so. You were right in getting worried. And I only thought of how I have always handled things here. I am sorry for that.” 
“No please, it’s alright. I can see your point of view now. Thank you for being so kind again.” You paused. Something stirred inside you, like a big sadness that had been dormant for a long time at the bottom of your heart seeping out slowly. 
“Actually, I have lost someone precious to me too, a long time ago, in a very similar incident. Perhaps that’s the reason why I have been so sensitive.”
You glanced at her as if you needed a moment before uttering the words, “It was my father.” The last word got mingled with the sadness stuck in your throat. 
“Oh dear, what happened to him?” Lady Ruth kept her empty cup on the table and looked at you with concern. 
You looked at her but your eyes couldn’t see her anymore — you were taken back to the time that you hated remembering the most. 
•••
Winter was just beginning to settle itself in the early October air when one night your dad had suddenly showed up at your boarding school and filled out a form requesting your emergency leave for a week. 
Be it for his whimsical nature or his adventurous mind, on numerous occasions he had taken you to many such impromptu trips. Despite being so used to such endeavours of your most favourite person in the world, your fifteen year old self couldn’t help but take notice of the anxiousness that his face wore that night. You knew almost instantaneously that this wasn’t one of your trips. 
After an hour-long train ride from the city, you got off at the nearest train station from your locality. But as soon as you did so, your dad took you directly to the car parked in the parking lot of the station — which was unusual since your dad always bought you pretzels from a particular store after getting off there. 
Luckily, unlike other times you didn’t feel hungry as an old lady with long white hair who was sitting on the opposite seat to yours offered two cookies each to you and your dad, but your dad being too anxious to eat had given you his share as well. 
“We don’t have much time so I am going to step on it, alright? Hold tight.” Your dad had said before racing straight into the shortcut that no one knew the name of and no one bothered to keep one either — for everyone it was just a shortcut that everyone should avoid. 
Why is dad taking this dark road? You couldn’t help but feel concerned. 
The only things that provided little comfort were that it was your dad you were with, and the speed at which he was driving to take you home soon. 
Soon you had passed the very same gas station that you had no idea that you would be crossing again eleven years later. 
Your dad had told you some things about the gas station that you took as nothing more than a joke to lighten the atmosphere. 
When you reached home at around 2am, the churning feeling inside your gut gave away its reason for being. 
You saw your mom, your aunt-in-law, your grandparents and all the people that worked in your estate gathered in the hallroom with grave expressions. As soon as you entered the room your grandmother had taken you into her embrace and weeped. 
“What’s going on?” You had asked. 
Before anyone could answer you, you felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder and you turned around. He sat you on the sofa and crouching down on his knee he held your hands, “Sweetheart, your uncle is missing along with his friend… And I must go find them and bring them back.” 
“But what about the police?” 
“It’s my responsibility… I must be the one to go. The police won’t be of much help anyways. Don’t worry, I will surely bring them back. You just have to be the absolute sweetheart as you are and stay with your mom, alright?” Saying so, your dad stood up and with a slight nod at everyone, he walked out of the house. 
You couldn’t stand watching him go away like that so you yanked your hand out of your mom’s and ran after him. 
He was just about to get into his car but he stopped when he heard you call him. You ran and hugged him tightly, “Take me with you, please dad. It will be faster if we look together, won’t it? I am sure we will be able to spot them quicker and be back home even before dawn breaks. Dad? Please say something!” 
Your dad broke himself out of your hug and sat on the car seat. He gently wiped the tears off of your face and kissed your forehead and murmured, “My sweet angel… I have already put your uncles in danger because of my foolishness… How can I put you in a similar situation when I know what might lie ahead…” 
His words sent an uneasy fear down your spine but he didn’t let you question him. Instead he immediately held your arms and looked into your eyes with a serious expression, “Promise me, you'll never take the shortcut after midnight! And even if you do you won't stop anywhere in the middle. And no matter what happens you won't take the road to Devil's Crest!” 
You shook your head, “Only if you promise to come back by morning.” 
Your dad smiled sadly and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be back soon.”
You wiped his tears gently and as the other family members started to come out, you quickly whispered, “It’s not your fault, dad.” 
Seeing the others, he hurriedly got into his car. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and before driving off he said, “I love you, sweetheart.”
Your “I love you too” subsided in the ground with the descending mist. 
•••
You lowered your face into your palms trying to stop the streaming of warm tears into your warm hands.
You had no idea when Lady Ruth had sat beside you but when you felt her hand gently stroking your hair and back, you looked up at her and wiped your wet cheeks, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bawl my eyes out like this.” You chuckled, “It’s just that I suddenly miss him so much.” 
Lady Ruth smiled awkwardly, “Do you know why people avoid the shortcut?”
You shook your head.
“There’s a rumour that plagues this area… that a witch haunts the shortcut road and its surroundings. That she takes people's souls to feed herself. Many people have gone missing over the years, fueling the rumour, eventually forcing people to avoid this area altogether.” 
“Have you seen that witch?” You asked as goosebumps lined your skin. 
Lady Ruth scoffed, “No, I haven’t. Though Duri has witnessed some gruesome murders by poachers who come to the forest to hunt for the rare pangolins but encounter humans instead. Sometimes one or two lucky humans make it out of their harsh luck…” She paused. Then looking in your eyes she said, “Eleven years ago one such human sought refuge in our home. He was badly injured and he did his best to hold up for a week. But we couldn’t avoid the misfortune. His… name was Park Yunseok.” 
For a moment you felt like there was a heavy stone placed on your head and you were drowning. You couldn’t breath and your ears rang a constant tone. 
Your face contorted as you dug up the word from inside your throat, “D-Dad?” 
“I am afraid so…” Lady Ruth said. “Would you like to visit his grave?” 
Did you? You didn’t have the courage — neither to find the answer to your question, nor to face your father’s resting place. 
But I should. Otherwise how would your dad feel that you came this near and didn’t visit him?
“I should.” You replied. 
“Yeah.” Lady Ruth smiled faintly and stroked your hair one more time before getting up. 
You walked behind Lady Ruth and Duri as they led you to the south-east part of their property. After walking for a few minutes through their immaculately taken care of and beautifully designed garden, you reached a small perfectly mowed yard. At the end of the yard, there was a small patch of land that was covered in gerbera daisies and in the middle you saw your dad’s grave housed in marble and an epitaph - rising a foot above the ground - that said — 
HERE LIES THE MAN WHO GRACED THE EARTH WITH THE SMILE MOST BEAUTIFUL
PARK YUNSEOK
PUT TO REST - 17 OCTOBER OF YEAR 2131 
You sat beside his grave and smiled looking at the daisies surrounding it, “He must have told you about his favourite flower..” You looked up at Lady Ruth and said, “Thank you. I know he… likes it here.” 
You looked down immediately to hide your fresh batch of tears and requested quickly, “Can I have a moment with him alone, please?” 
“Of course, my dear. We’ll be going back to the house. Take your time.” You didn’t look up as you nodded but you could feel them leaving. 
A few minutes passed with you staring at the ground then you slowly looked to your back to make sure they were far enough. 
You slowly looked back and touched the grave — first with just the tip of your fingers and then with your palm. Despite the sun over your head the stone was cold and you started stroking it gently. 
“Dad… Is it cold in there? I am sorry… I couldn’t arrange for your cremation or hold a proper funeral for you. Still I am glad that you met some decent people to be there for you in your last moments and they made you a nice place to rest. Don’t worry. I’ll be a good girl and thank them properly.” 
You paused to take a deep breath and as it slowly left your lungs in a shaky exhale, your chest hurt as if thousand hammers were going off at once. 
The fatigue of all of the years you were looking for your dad came crashing down on you all at once — the memories of going through the tireless four years of nosebleeding university life, becoming an official detective, tolerating the prejudices, swallowing the scoldings for trying to gather information about your dad’s whereabouts, being told off for using police resources and time for personal use and finally quitting the job to look for him independently — like a tsunami.
“Dad…” Another shaky breath escaped your lungs and you couldn’t control your tears anymore. “I am… I am sorry dad… I should have been there for you. It must have been so hard for you to not see any of us in your last moments. I am sorry dad. I wish it was me instead of you. Dad, I miss you so much…” You didn’t care if your voice was going to disturb the noiseless peace around here, you wailed calling your dad and hugged the grave as much as you could. The tears streaming down your cheeks mixed with your running nose wetted the grave and the coldness of the stone felt a little warm. 
“Dad.. dad… can’t you ask God for a second chance? Can’t you beg him to send you back in time? That way you could prevent that awful night from happening and you could see me grow up and get married to Jeongguk and play with your grandkids… That way mom wouldn’t be sad and mom wouldn’t marry Jiho and I wouldn’t have to call him ‘dad’... I hate it when mom forces me to call him dad in front of others… I hate it. He is not my dad. No one can ever take your place, dad. Please come back, dad. And tell me that you are proud of me and I grew up just the way you hoped I would. Dad… Dad? Please say something. Call me and wake me up from this nightmare… Dad…” Your breath hitched and you started having trouble breathing because of your blocked nose. The pain in your chest increased and you felt sick in your stomach. 
You stood up and ran outside the flower patch and vomited everything that you had eaten a while ago. You felt dizzy and a burning irritation shot up from your throat to your nose to your brain. With weak steps, you reached the grave and hugged it to get some rest and a much sought comfort. 
••• 
From the window of her bedroom, which was located at the far south-east of the manor, Ruth Livingston was watching you with her vintage brass binoculars. Her lips twitched at its corner and her eyes gleamed in ecstasy. 
Never peeling her eyes away from you she addressed her loyal servant Duri who was standing upright by the door and exclaimed, “Tch tch. Poor thing. Crying, wailing, writhing in pain… all on a grave that’s not even real.” 
Her laughter resounded throughout her bedroom and she felt an unparalleled joy, “If just watching her like this is this satisfying, then imagine how wonderful I am going to feel when she becomes a part of my collection? She should be ready by now. Go, bring her. I can’t wait anymore.” 
“Right away, your grace.” Duri replied and turned to leave. 
But right then her shout compelled Duri to turn back around instantaneously, “NO! No no no! Don’t! Don’t ruin my happiness, you disgusting vile little rat! Duri! Look at her! She is vomiting all the feeds! She is emptying her guts on my beautiful flower beds! Bring her back at once!” 
•••
You must have fallen asleep after getting tired because of the physical and emotional toll all the crying took on your body. When you woke up you found yourself lying down on the couch in Jeongguk’s room. 
You sat up slowly and softly placed your palms on your swollen eyes. The darkness of the room made you wonder how long you have been out of it. 
Jeongguk was still unconscious. As you watched him from your position it was hard to even tell whether he was breathing or not. 
You got up and sat near Jeongguk. His body temperature was still on the colder perimeter; the only thing that somewhat assured you was his slow breathing. 
You held his hand as tears accumulated in your eyes again. 
I don’t think I can survive losing someone again.
••• 
“Ah! This is so amusing! Ha ha ha!” Swaying in her armchair, Ruth Livingston laughed like she hadn't in a very long time. 
“Duri, you never told me it was this enthralling to catch prey! I am thinking of joining you from now on. On that note, prepare a scrumptious feast for her. I want her to be well fed so that she has the energy to cry a little more! Ah! I didn't expect her to react like that… Now I have to make another miscarriage potion, which is going to take a while. It’s a little setback that I cannot have her with an untainted soul living inside her but that only means I can play with her a little longer. Prepare that thing beforehand so I can give it to her after lunch.”
Duri bowed deeply and silently left the room to carry out the order he was given. 
•••
When you were at the hospital, a few years back, because of appendix surgery, the nurses and the doctors constantly came to check up on you and feed you medicine at designated times. What reminded you of that time was the fact that it had been almost seven hours since you came here and you hadn't seen the doctor — that lady Ruth doted on so much — visit Jeongguk even for once!   
It was worrisome. You didn't want to keep Jeongguk in such a neglectful situation when you didn't have any idea how severe his injuries were. 
His body was getting colder by the minute and his appearance turned paler; it didn't even feel like a living person's body anymore. 
I have to pressure the mechanic myself to repair Jeongguk's car within today, preferably before the sun sets.
You kept Jeongguk's hand down by his side gently and got out of the room. Duri was standing right outside the door which startled you. As soon as he saw you he politely said, “It’s time for lunch, milady. I have come to escort you.” 
“Oh! Thank you, sir.” You replied immediately. 
Tch! I should have denied and asked him to lead me to the mechanic.
“Please call me Duri. I am not to be addressed as ‘sir’ by a guest of this manor.” Duri said in his usual stoic manner. 
You didn’t want to argue on ways this household worked so you just decided to ask him about the whereabouts of the mechanic instead, “Oh… Okay. By the way, Duri, can you tell me where the warehouse is where Jeongguk’s car is getting fixed?” 
There was a moment’s pause before he replied, “I must have her grace’s permission before taking you there, milady. You can ask her for yourself at the table.” 
“That I shall do then.” You replied and nodded your head to yourself. 
You were led into the dining room where Lady Ruth was already seated. The long and finely polished Indian rosewood dining table with a capacity to seat fourteen people, in the middle of the room, painted in a combination of matte orange and Carolina blue, had long fallen from its prime with only Lady Ruth being its sole user. 
It was indeed a surprise to you — you didn’t know what you were expecting but it was certainly not her words being true about the only three residents of this vast mansion.
I would be out of my wits if I had to live alone like this in a single place. 
After you took your seat, Duri started bringing in dishes one by one and it felt like his trips from the food trolley to the dining table were never ending. Before long, the table was filled with delicacies, most of which you were seeing for the first time. 
“Please dig in. Duri here is no less than a Michelin chef.” Lady Ruth said with a proud smile. 
Your eyes travelled over all the dishes that covered the table and you couldn’t imagine how Duri managed to prepare all these single handedly in such a short time especially taking into consideration the fact that it took you at least one hour to prepare only three dishes. 
You took a bite from the savory appetiser placed right in front of you. Your head immediately turned towards Duri who was standing by the food trolley and you exclaimed with big eyes, “Duri, this is seriously so delicious! With this skill you should consider becoming a professional chef! You would totally kill it!” 
A bewildered expression flashed on Lady Ruth’s face which you luckily caught instantly and you corrected yourself immediately, “I mean not literally kill anything. It’s a figure of speech that people use nowadays to say that someone would be outstandingly good at something. Ha ha. Please don’t misunderstand.” 
There wasn’t much of a muscle movement on Duri’s face and you were relieved when you saw the proud smile on her lips returning, “That’s a dangerous figure of speech. Anyway, I told you so. Though I don’t know if he’ll be wanting to leave me alone here.” 
You quickly glanced at Duri, then to Lady Ruth and said, “I am sure he isn’t willing to.” 
Lady Ruth didn’t say anything but the smile did grow a little. 
You waited for a moment to pass before asking, “By the way, your grace, if possible I would like to meet the mechanic to know how the repair is going. Gguk’s… I mean Jeongguk’s condition is worsening and I am sorry if I sound rude but I haven’t seen your doctor visit him even once since I arrived…” 
Lady Ruth swallowed the food in her mouth and looked at Duri, “Duri?” 
“Doctor Jung stopped by twice to check on Miss Park’s boyfriend since morning — once when your graces were having tea and the second time when Miss Park was not conscious. He also checked up on Miss Park while he was there and said that he’d talk to her when she is awake.” All this while Duri answered looking at Lady Ruth and his eyes never wavered your way, not even when he mentioned your name in front of you as if you were not present in the same room. His behaviour was telling you how insignificant you were to a mere servant of this manor and that you should watch how you speak with the master of this very manor. You couldn’t refute, as the guilt of your own words felt heavier on your tongue than the insult on your chest. 
“I am sorry. I didn’t know.” You managed to raise your voice a notch higher than a mumble. 
“Please don’t worry about it. People behave in a lot of ways when they are not informed about certain situations. Especially when they are desperate. So I can understand you. Duri will take you to the warehouse after lunch. Please finish your meal.” After saying this to you with her voice as calm as ever she went back to eating. 
Both of you ate silently, and soon you had finished everything that was served to you, which was, considering your regular eating capacity, quite excessive. 
After the table was cleared, you were led to the living room. Duri brought an envelope on a small tray. Lady Ruth took the envelope and handed it to you and said, “Your father… left this with us.” 
Even before you could open the envelope, tears accumulated in your eyes. You sat down and wiped your wet eyes before taking out the note. 
It was a short letter written on a torn diary page. 
My sweet angel, the light of my life, 
Please forgive this cruel dad of yours for not keeping the promise he made. I am sorry that I had to leave like that and now… I am leaving again… I wish I could see you one last time. 
The letter ended abruptly. You flipped to see if there’s anything more but there wasn’t. You checked the envelope and found a polaroid inside it which was a picture of you and him, that was taken on your fifth birthday picnic, that he always kept in his wallet. 
The heaviness inside your throat was back again and you found it hard to breathe. Not wanting to put the burden of consoling you on your hosts, you said as your voice trembled, “I’ll excuse myself to Jeongguk’s room. Sorry.” 
You darted out of there and couldn’t notice the slight nod that Lady Ruth gave you, nor the light crooked smile that formed on her lips. 
Entering the room, you closed the door behind you and let yourself slide down its length. Your chest hurt. The pain hung on your rib cages like rotten branches and no matter how much you pounded on them to make them go away, they didn’t. Defeated, you hugged your knees close to yourself and cried on them and there was only one thought that reverberated throughout your brain. 
Dad, please come back. 
In search of comfort, you went to sit on the chair kept beside Jeongguk. Holding his cold hands you kept your head on the bed. Your fingers fiddled with his pale ones and your unceasing tears wetted his bedsheet. You wished he would wake up any time now and would hug you until you felt better. 
Your tears slowed down as minutes went by and your line of vision got clearer. But the person who came in after swinging the door open with all his might made you rub your eyes for a good moment to get the clearest view because how the hell is Hoseok here?
You sat up straight but you were too dumbstruck to stand up and react in a way you would when you saw him normally. 
“Wonwon! Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Wonwon speak to me!” You could faintly hear him enquire you while checking your pulse. You were too busy processing the sense of familiarity that you had been seeking all this while to answer him. The sound of his nickname for you — that he had given you when you two were just little kids with runny noses in preschool because pronouncing ‘Sowon’ was too much for him — fell on your ears like holding a warm mug of cocoa in a freezing winter evening.
When the layer of daze wore off you hugged him tightly and exclaimed, “I am… totally fine… now! I am just so so happy to see you, Hoba! So happy! Are you even real? I am not seeing things, am I? How are you even here in the first place?” 
Hoseok sighed in relief and breaking out of your hug he smiled, “What do you mean ‘how’? I live here!” 
After he made you sit back on the chair he sat on the floor and said, “I sent you my address, don’t you remember?” 
Hearing him say that, you finally remembered the text he sent you with his location just before moving in — The Balam Manor, Witch’s Cradle.
No wonder the name seemed so familiar when you read it initially at the entrance. 
But you still had many questions that needed to be answered so you asked him, “I remember now. But your sister called and told me that they couldn’t reach you for many days. You must have sent them your location, haven’t you?” 
“Really?” Hoseok looked puzzled. “I have sent them my location, I remember for sure. Have they gone to the wrong place? And moreover, I couldn’t reach them for a few days now, so I was thinking of visiting them, but we found Jeongguk and I couldn’t just leave him like this.” 
“Wait, Hoba! You said you inherited this mansion and you were going to renovate it… Then what’s Lady Ruth doing here?” 
“Oh… that?” Hoseok smiled awkwardly; you thought he even looked a little sad. “There’s been a mix up. I did inherit it kind of but Aunty Ruth, my uncle’s wife, is still alive, and even though uncle had written it off to me, aunty still has some right on it so it was decided that this floor will be aunty’s for as long as she lives. And the remaining floors above, that is, the first and second, are mine.” 
“Are you okay? What about Ji-a? Is she okay with this?” You asked. 
“Well, you know her. She is a bit taken aback. But the good thing is that she said she will prepare her mind about this situation and join me in a few days and help me with the renovations.” 
“Well Ji-a has always been a sensible one!” You smiled. 
“Just like her boyfriend.” Hoseok smiled smugly. 
“Yeah, of course.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“So you are the in-house doctor that Lady Ruth mentioned!” You squinted your eyes playfully at Hoseok.
“Is that how she talked about me?” He asked. “Well, can’t blame her. She didn’t know that we knew each other. Not gonna lie that I don’t feel a little bad though… She still hasn't fully accepted me. That’s understandable as well. Imagine someone you never heard of comes and says that your dead husband has given your home to them! I would totally go berserk. She still is willing to cooperate.” 
“Yeah…” Your voice trailed off. After Hoseok’s comment about ‘dead husband’ you could barely pay attention to what he was saying as your eyes wandered to Jeongguk and the ache in your chest was back. 
Hoseok followed your eyes and held your hands, “Wonwon… don’t worry. He has made it out of the most critical phase. Just give him some time, he will get better. I am taking care of him.” 
“Hoba…” Your voice trembled as you looked back at your best friend. “I don’t doubt your skill but look at him… How much more time do you think we should spend on just letting him lie down here like this? He is getting paler and colder. If it wasn’t for his slow breaths I would have thought I had lost him… Please Hoba, we have to get him to a hospital!” 
Your words put Hoseok in deep thought. After a brief moment of silence he sighed and said, “You are right. No matter how much effort I put in it won’t be enough. There’s no suitable equipment here as there would be in a hospital. I heard Jeongguk’s car is in the warehouse. Do you want to go check on its status?” 
You stood up immediately and said, “That’s what I have been trying to do since before lunch! Let’s go at once!” 
“Let me lead you there, milady.” Hoseok smiled. 
“I see Duri has rubbed off on you.” You laughed. And Hoseok laughed back and tried to mimic Duri, “Is that so, milady?”
The warehouse was behind the manor in the north. It was a big wooden building, or one could say a humongous room with a slanting wooden roof that could house at least twenty SUV cars with enough space to open doors fully in between them. It seemed like a total waste of space to see a single car with a tattered front being repaired at the side. 
When you two walked up to the car, a person wearing a grey vest and black mechanic pants emerged from under the vehicle. 
Seeing you two, he got up and waved at Hoseok, “Hey, Dr. Jung! Good to see you!” 
His accent was of the city that suddenly felt so out of place here and no matter how much you tried to shake it off, you couldn’t help but think that he looked like the Korean version of Vin Diesel. 
Hoseok extended his hand for a handshake but he refused, showing his hands laced with car grease and oil. Then he asked Hoseok with a smile, “And who this pretty lady here might be?” 
“She is the girlfriend of the owner of the car you are fixing, Park Sowon.” Hoseok answered him.
“Ouch! There goes my chance for a date night. Anyways, it’s a pleasure to meet you Sowon-ssi! This humble man’s name is Lim Seokga. But you can lovingly call me Seok.” He smiled and bowed like a gentleman. 
“It’s nice to meet you too Seokga-ssi.” In reality all you wanted to say was - You are a mile away from humbleness Mr. Lim, like you should be from me.
You bowed back slightly and smiled awkwardly. You looked at Hoseok and pleaded with your eyes to rescue you from these unsolicited flirtations. 
He seized your signal like a spy would from his fellow in espionage and he grinned at Seokga and pretended to whisper as if he was trying to be his wingman, “Seokga-ssi, Sowon-ssi is a bit tense right now. Why don’t you show off your skills and explain the condition of the car to her?” 
Seokga gave Hoseok a smirk of approval and turned around to face the dinged up car. You noticed a symbol that almost looked like a fancy tattoo branded on his neck that started at the top of his neck and ran a couple inches along his spine. The burnt mark seemed sizzling fresh as if he had it done a few minutes ago and somehow you could feel the pain that it must have inflicted to come into existence.
Seokga kept his hand on the bonnet of the car and started explaining, “Anyways, Sowon-ssi, date night or not, I must do my job. You have come to know about the condition of the car, right? In short terms, it’s not really good. I am quite embarrassed to say this but it can only be repaired at the showroom. It’s not a one person job.” 
You felt anger bubble up at the pit of your throat. You felt like you had been standing in a long queue for half a day in front of an empty shop. 
You tried to sound as calm as you could, “So you're telling me you have been working on this car for a full day knowing that you can’t fix it?” 
“Full day? I arrived just this morning! And I never said I can’t fix it. I said I need manpower and the facilities.” Seokga tried to defend his honour behind his cheeky answer. 
You knew better than to argue with a man like him.
“Ridiculous!” You muttered under your breath and gritted teeth before leaving the warehouse with hurried strides. 
When you walked in, Lady Ruth was in the living room instructing Duri about the arrangement of your stay for the night. 
“I am afraid, your grace, I don’t think I can stay for the night. If I take off now I can bring an ambulance back with me at earliest tonight.” You announced. 
Lady Ruth stared at you for a good few seconds as if trying to make sense of the nonsense you just sputtered out. 
“I think that would have been for the best. He needs better care but I am afraid I have some bad news for you. It seems that a tempest is expected this evening. I don’t think it would be wise to set out now.” She said calmly. 
The bewilderment from a moment ago hadn’t yet dissipated from within you and hearing this now, you felt terribly angry, as if you were being held captive. You looked out the window and exclaimed, “The weather seems totally fine to me! There isn’t even a single dark cloud in the sky yet! It didn’t take me long to reach here. I am certain if you don’t stall me further I will be able to make it out of here before the storm catches up!” 
You looked at Lady Ruth, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression. It was as if she wasn’t present there at the moment. You stood there like you had just yelled at your mother and couldn’t decide whether you should apologise or not.
You felt a light jab at your side and you looked at Hoseok who was signalling you to apologise, which made you realise that you had strangely forgotten about his existence for the past few minutes. 
It’s like someone put several ice cubes on your hot head and the fizzing sensation urged you to apologise for your unnecessary rudeness to the lady who was everything but helping you. 
You turned to look at Lady Ruth whose expression gave the impression that she was back to this room. 
“I- I am sorry, your grace… I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just that the mechanic really got on my nerves and I involuntarily took out my frustration on you. I apologise for being an impudent brat.” 
You waited for her to reply and a few seconds passed when suddenly an intensely bright lightning struck the ground outside followed by a deafening sound which made you jump out of your skin and you felt goosebumps all over. 
Heavy rainfall soon followed, accompanied with mad gusts of wind and roaring thunder. Duri, with quick steps, closed all the windows and disappeared down the right hallway to probably close the rest of the windows. Seeing him, you ran to Jeongguk’s room to close the window. 
Rain was wetting the curtains and there was already a pool forming on the floor. You scurried over to close the window sills. There were a number of things you should consider when walking on a wet floor and the first one was to never hurry, which you did, and the next thing you knew was that you slipped and hit something real hard — the pain at the back of your head was the last thing you felt before blacking out. 
Your consciousness started coming back to you slowly, like a weekend morning after a good night’s sleep. You pulled the blanket closer to you as you let yourself stay like that in the comfort of the bed. In the back of your head, you felt like you were forgetting something. Then it dawned upon you like a weekday morning after a late night’s sleep. You sat up abruptly and stayed like that for a couple minutes to let your brain return to normal from the sudden dizziness. 
You slowly got out of the bed and noticed that you were wearing an off-white lace full-sleeved midi nightgown. The back of your head hurt and you had a bandage wrapped around your head. Instinctively, you touched your head while looking around the beige and sage green themed bedroom — it was well-lit with candles and it didn’t have any windows so you couldn’t tell what hour of the day it was. The shock made you run into the bathroom attached to the room. In the mirror you saw yourself and thought no wonder your head felt so light — there was not a single strand of hair on your head. 
What the fuck! How could they?
You left the room to find Hoseok to get an explanation behind your shaved head, and you noticed that you had been in the room next to Jeongguk’s. The hallway was lit with fire torches, and through the window at the end of the hallway you could see that it was already night and the rain was still falling, although its vigour had lessened a lot from before.
You slowly walked into Jeongguk’s room. The floor was dry and in the light of the candles Jeongguk’s pale body looked livelier than he looked that afternoon. His breaths seemed more stable now. 
You sat near him and softly brushed his hair with your fingers and whispered, “Please wake up soon. I can’t do this without you.” 
You walked through the torch-lighted hallway to find Hoseok. You passed the living room and entered the right hallway. The very first room had its door open and it seemed like a study. You saw Lady Ruth in a dark green silk maxi nightgown half-lying on a dark brown wool sofa reading a thick book. 
You thought that it would be better to ask her about Hoseok’s whereabouts than wandering these colossal halls yourself. You knocked on the door to get her attention and she immediately looked at you and sat up, “Sowon, you are up! Please come in!” 
You entered the room and sat on one of the two single-seater sofas. 
The room was brown themed and smelt of old books and wood. Three of its walls, including the one that had the entrance, had ceiling-touching wooden shelves full of books. The fourth wall opposite to the entrance, was filled with framed photographs, a fireplace and an olive coloured small door at the far left that was smaller than any door you had seen so far in the house. It was almost head-to-head with Lady Ruth. 
“Why did you come all the way here by yourself? You should be taking a rest now. Hoseok would be upset if he sees you out of your bed.” She said with concern. 
“I was looking for him actually…” You murmured, unable to talk in your normal volume. 
“He went to his room a while back and said he will be down for dinner. Duri is still not done yet, it seems. Are you hungry? Can you wait a bit more?” 
“Yes.. I don’t mind..” You murmured again. 
You couldn’t figure out the strange nervousness that you felt and you noticed that you were fidgeting your fingers and your legs were shaking and the air sat heavy on your upper body as sweat droplets formed on your forehead. 
“I must say you don’t look all that bad with all your hair gone. When Hoseok suggested shaving your whole head to stitch the wound, saying that you would hate having a bald spot on your head I couldn’t really agree. After all, a lady's beauty is in her hair!” 
You were not really paying attention to what she was saying so you just smiled awkwardly and wiped the sweat on your forehead with a shaky hand. You couldn’t form an answer as you were completely taken over by the weirdness you felt in your body, and you felt strangely attracted towards the wall that had the small door. 
You stood up abruptly and asked, “Can I look at the photos on the wall?” 
“Sure. Go ahead!” 
Getting the permission you swiftly went over to the wall and slowly started going through the pictures. The pictures ranged from old sepia to black and white to evolving coloured ones to aesthetically edited high definition ones — it was as if you were going through the history of photography. The photos were taken in various parts of this very property and most of the pictures were of Lady Ruth, many were of her with a middle aged man that she introduced to you as her late husband, and a few had Duri with her in it. In one such photo your eyes stopped — it was comparatively small, almost the size of your face and it was the only photo with only Duri in it. In it he was looking at a mirror hung up on a wall — he looked much younger, probably in his 30s, and he was looking at his reflection with a smile as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing but he was happy nonetheless. The photo was taken from his back and a similar searing brand was clearly visible on his neck that you saw this afternoon on Seokga’s neck. The photograph was old - perhaps the oldest one here - so you had no way of determining the freshness of the wound. 
With a shaky breath you asked, “Wh- What’s behind this door?”
 Lady Ruth stared at the door for a moment and mumbled, “My lifeline.” Then she looked back at your puzzled face and said, “Let me give you a tour!” 
The door didn’t have a lock nor did it have a handle. Lady Ruth pushed it and it slid open swiftly. Upon crossing the threshold you came upon a scenery which made you feel more speechless than when you visited the Guggenheim museum for the first time. 
The wooden shelf that started from the immediate left wall of the door touched the ceiling and when you looked up, its height went on for at least twice the height of the ground floor ceiling. 
“Come.” Lady Ruth held your hand and you followed her spellbound. 
The shelf ran along the walls and continued in a circle till it couldn’t bend anymore. It was like a mosquito coil but quadrilateral. There were candle lanterns placed at regular intervals so it wasn’t that difficult to see things. The shelf was filled with two different shapes of glass boxes — rectangular and square — and they were innumerable. Each glass box — approximately two feet in length — was separated from the other by a thin wooden ply. 
“Wh-What are these?” You asked. 
“My collection of miniature places. I make these location miniatures from scratch and Duri brings the glass boxes from outside and I store them in here. I only create two places though. One is the Devil’s Crest and another one is the entire property of this manor.” 
“How many exactly are there? They seem countless!” You couldn’t help but express your bewilderment. 
“Not quite. There are exactly twenty-seven thousand six hundred and sixty-six worlds!” 
“Wow… I am stupefied to say the least!” You exclaimed, feeling your shoulders getting burdened by each step towards the interior. 
“I would say that I am proud of myself too. They really help me live.” She smiled and looked at her collection.
When you reached the centre of the room, the shelf ended and there was an ivory table on which an approximately 15 cm tall snowglobe was kept, and it was covered by a tall glass box which reminded you of the rose covered in glass in The Beauty And The Beast. 
It was the most breathtaking snowglobe that you had ever seen in your entire life. You went closer to it to take a good look and it made you gasp. Inside the place seemed way too familiar — it was the shortcut road that started from the junction, leaving the actual junction area out of it and ended right before reaching the Moore Estate. The woods surrounding it were in it as well, and what seemed like very tiny versions of a gas station, the Devil’s Crest turning and the entire property of the Balam Manor. What surprised you the most was that it was drizzling inside it just like it was outside. 
Lady Ruth could probably tell what you were thinking by your shocked expression so she said, “I know it seems like an unusual piece but it’s nothing really surprising. The snow globe has a mechanism that lets me set its weather inside and I like it when it matches.” 
“Can I touch it?” You asked while pointing at it.
Lady Ruth almost jumped at you and grabbed your hand and nervously laughed, “I would rather prefer if you don’t. You see, it was gifted to me by an extremely important someone and it’s very precious to me. It’s what inspired my hobby, ha ha. I don’t let anyone touch it. But you can look at the ones I made! Please.”
Her eyes were pleading you to move away from it. You didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so you glanced at it one last time and moved away to look at the ones on the shelf. 
The shelf had no space left for a new one so you said, “Seems like you have to make space for your future miniatures.”
“Not really. There are always some that end up as no joy for me and when they are discarded new ones fill that space!” 
“Oh…” You replied, pretending to understand fully what she said and went back to observing. 
The miniature boxes had tiny silver tags at top right corners of each of them and had numbers written on them which seemed like dates followed by letters with no space in between them. 
On the bottom shelf there was a miniature of the Devil Crest inside a rectangular glass box whose dimensions were 2ft×1ft×1ft. For some reason you felt attracted towards it, so you squatted down and looked at it intently. 
“Here.” Lady Ruth took out a lantern from its holder and handed it to you. 
“Thank you.” You replied showing a small smile and went back to observing.
The silver plate on its top left corner read: 21421002306JJ. 
It was a bluish dark kind of atmosphere inside as if it would dawn there soon. There was a straight road that ran lengthwise from one end to the other and its entirety was surrounded by woods on both sides that became denser the further it went from the road. 
On the right end of the road, placed at least two inches above its base, on the glass case was a neon exit sign. 
Right before reaching it the road took a turn and formed a circle of red colour. Something felt off about it so you leaned in closer to take a better look. Then you saw the pitch coloured road that was there from the starting but as it neared the circle it bent left slightly as if making room for the red road and ghostly moved forward towards the exit sign. 
The position of the roads were so close that if the roads were the same colour, one might think that the red road was the straight continuation and the pitch road was just another lane, or that the road just got wider. 
Then you noticed another weird thing — there was a car on the red road that stood facing the exit sign and it looked exactly like Jeongguk’s car. 
“Th- That’s Jeongguk’s car!” You blurted out and looked at Lady Ruth. 
“Hm? Oh yes!” Lady Ruth bent forward to look at the miniature and then looking at you she smiled, “Your boyfriend’s car gave me the idea. I think adding this detail puts more life into it! Don’t you think so?”
You nodded reluctantly. It’s making me sick, if anything. 
If you were in a bustling place then you would have thought you were hearing things, but the room was so quiet it could hardly be passed as a mistake; you clearly heard it - Jeongguk calling you. 
It was very faint but you were sure it was Jeongguk’s voice calling out, “Sowon!” 
Multiple times.
You stood up abruptly and exclaimed, “Did you hear that? Jeongguk’s calling me! He must be up! I must go at once!” 
You kept the lantern on the floor and ran out of the room.  
•••
Jeongguk wasn’t feeling himself. He felt detached from his body. His exhausted body was working under the directions of an adamant mind. A mind that felt itself going crazy and couldn’t register the tired body that was carrying it.  
How long had he been walking on this godforsaken road, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to reach an ending. The unchanging environment surrounding him clutched his throat but wanted him to go on still. 
He couldn’t remember how many times he had already passed his car. 
He didn’t know how many times he had broken down in the middle of the road.
He finally stopped to take a sip of water that he was rationing in case he had to stay longer. He sat on the back seat and drank one sip and lied down. 
His brain was starting to finally acknowledge the worn out aching body. And along with it a sense of hopelessness, that he was avoiding. 
Drops of tears glided down from the side of his eyes — some entered his ears and some detoured into his black hair. 
Just then, something unexpected happened - he heard your voice. 
It was as if you were talking to somebody not too far from him. And when you spoke his name, he heard it loud and clear. 
He sprang up and ran outside and called out your name, with all the strength in his body, “Sowon!” Multiple times. 
Jeongguk heard his name one more time and then everything went silent, again. 
“No no no no no. She can’t be here. She shouldn’t be here.” Jeongguk mumbled to himself, clutching his hair. 
“I must find her at once.” He knew full well that you weren’t on the road. The only option was the woods that he was avoiding until now. 
Without any hesitation, he ran into the woods. The hovering fog followed him. 
•••
As abruptly as you had left you came to an abrupt halt at the door of Jeongguk’s room. His taut body seemed loose as he was sitting on the bed, trying hard to do the same. You ran the short distance and hugged him. 
“Oh god! Thank you so much! You are up! How are you feeling, Gguk? Is there any pain?” You asked. 
He just smiled tiredly. 
“Let me call Hobi.” You tried to get up but Jeongguk held you in his hug. 
He softly sighed into the crook of your neck, “Let’s stay like this for a bit. I thought I won't be able to see you anymore.”
A slow discomfort crept up from your gut and spread its supple branches to the places Jeongguk’s body touched yours. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Your hardened stress was supposed to melt away from his touch instead of tightening like cooling stones. 
Despite the fire blazing at its full capacity in the fireplace, Jeongguk’s body was unusually cold to the touch. You couldn't figure out the reason for your discomfort, so you pulled yourself out from his grip and rubbed your hands up and down his cold arms over the thin fabric. 
“Oh my god! You are freezing! I have brought some warm clothes with me. Let me bring them to you.” You walked over to your haversack that had been abandoned by the couch since morning. You took out a white knit sweater that you had once borrowed from him. 
“What happened to your hair?” He asked in a raspy voice. 
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it later. A lot has happened since you got lost…” You sighed and started putting the sweater on him. 
“Really? Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about it?” He said and you noticed his raspy voice getting raspier. 
Knowing your boyfriend, you thought it was weird for a worrywart like him to not ask you about how you were feeling yet, especially now that you were pregnant. Brushing it off as his sickness side effect, you quickly went to his backside to roll down the sweater on him properly that got tucked upwards, and while doing so, your eyes flickered momentarily on his neck. 
Your hands froze in their place. You felt like all your red warm blood had turned into white cold icy water seeing the same sizzling brand mark on his neck. Only one thought made itself loud and clear in your consciousness — you had to get away from the man sitting on the bed in front of you pretending to be your beloved. 
With trembling hands and shaking pupils you touched the silver water jug kept on a bedside stand near his head and tried to sound completely normal but failed to control the stutters completely, “Oh- oh my! G-Gguk, you must be thirsty! Huh? Oh n-no! There’s no water in it! Let me go and bring some water for you!” 
You hoped that whoever it was in the room didn’t notice the cold sweat on your forehead nor that you were trying to run away from it and hurried out of the room with the full jug in your hand. 
Outside, the torch-lit hallway in your eyes appeared to continue forever and so gargantuan that the darkness at the end of it felt like you were looking down in an endless well and you could fall down in it if you looked any further.  
Your legs felt weak and inside your head you felt a buzzing that made you nauseous. You dragged your body into the next room in which you were resting in the evening and locked the door after you. 
Slowly you climbed the bed to find some comfort. You wrapped yourself in the blanket and sat there staring blankly at nothing. 
Steadily enough your thoughts began to gain a coherent form and the buzzing started to die down. But even after that, you couldn’t make sense of what was happening around you. 
Why do Duri, the mechanic and that person have the same brand? Why did I feel so sick in that room? Why do I feel so trapped? If that isn’t Jeongguk then where is he? Why did Lady Ruth have Jeongguk’s car inside her miniature? 21421002306JJ… 2142/10/02… October 2nd - the day Jeongguk went missing… His last call was at 3:03am. Could 306 be the time when these people found him? Wait… JJ? Jeon Jeongguk? 
You felt your nerves shudder as your thoughts spiralled. I have to get out of here and find the real Jeongguk.
You slowly got out of the room and tiptoed along the hallway even though you were barefoot. There was luckily no one around when you slipped into the study. You couldn’t risk getting out of the main door and getting caught — you remembered the way the metal door made a loud creaking noise when Duri opened it this afternoon when you went to visit your father’s grave. 
At this point, you were beginning to doubt whether it was even your father’s grave. There’s something really fishy going on here. 
In the vast array of books, you weren’t sure if the blueprint of this house would even be kept, and even if it was, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Moreover, you had to look for it before someone walked in or looked for you. You frantically started scanning the bookshelves, you opened the cabinets underneath and looked in them while trying to avoid making the least sound but to no avail. It was indeed a needle inside a huge pile of hay. 
Tired, you decided to stop and think carefully. It helped, for your eyes landed on something anomalous - all the shelves had uniform partitions except one in the right wall whose one partition ran wider than others. You knocked on it lightly and figured out that the inside was hollow. You hurriedly checked and noticed that it had no opening from the front. You started to take out the books slowly from the shelf at your eye level that was at the right side of the partition - there was nothing. 
You kept the books in their place and instead of moving upwards or downwards, you decided to go to the left side of the partition and check. 
Yes! You found it! 
There was a thin rectangular line that said that it could be moved. You slowly pushed it and it slid open. Inside it was dark but not wanting to waste anymore time to bring a light source, you shoved your hand inside — not your best decision because you were instantly greeted with an unpleasant handshake of sticky cobwebs, and you definitely felt a few small things crawl by your hand. 
You shut your eyes and mouth tightly and began to fumble your hand around until it touched something that felt like a thin book. 
Bringing it out you cleaned the thick layer of dirt and crumpled cobwebs, that made itself a part of it, with your nightgown. 
You opened it and realised that it was not a book but a parchment paper that was so big that upon folding the way it was, it gave the impression of a book. 
When you fully unfolded the paper, you realised that you had found just the thing you needed. The blueprint which was a detailed drawing of all the floor plans and designs of the manor on its aging parchment paper could hardly be called a blueprint since it was nothing that you were used to seeing, but you decided to refer to it as the ‘blueprint’ anyways. It took up a large area of the floor and there was a browned photograph kept in the middle which in the spur of the moment you kept aside to look at the drawing instead. 
In the all-familiar ground floor plan, you found something that was unfamiliar to you. There was a built-in secret passage along the back wall of the entire ground floor whose left end led to the kitchen in the basement and a backdoor marked as “the exit” was built in the middle of it. It had two entrances marked —  one on the wall facing the room in which Jeongguk’s doppelganger was and another one was in the wall facing the master bedroom at the end of the right hallway. It was convenient, you thought. You just had to wait for everyone to retire for the night and then you could make your great escape.
At the top middle of it there were several things written which you assumed were its construction period, name of the head architect and the owners, respectively — 
1589-1596
Jaejoong Yi
Jaejoong Yi & Ruth Amelia Livingston Yi
What the fuck… 
You read it again and instinctively reached out for the photograph that you had kept aside earlier. The yellowing photograph showed two people standing in front of the main gate of the Balam Manor and they were smiling - one of them you could recognise from when Lady Ruth introduced to you earlier, Mr. Yi Jaejoong, her husband and the other one, you could recognise all too well because it was none other than Lady Ruth herself. Behind the photograph, there was a congratulatory message written that read, “Wishing all the happiness for your new beginnings. Much love, Rich Moore.” 
Answers began to fold themselves into more questions the more you sought them out. You couldn’t comprehend all the information laid before you. You thought you were in some kind of an elaborate prank video. Why was there a photo of Lady Ruth that’s supposedly taken in 1596 when you could interact with her now in 2142, exactly 546 years later? 
The flickering candle lights painted something ominous on the walls around you and you found it hard to breath. You wanted to get out of there as soon as possible but there was something that you must check before you go — a miniature labeled in your dad’s name. 
There was no handle on the olive coloured door as you had seen before so you tried to push it open but it didn’t budge. You looked for anything that could be indicative of an opening but there was none. 
You considered taking the pictures off the wall to look for some kind of key as they showed in movies but just then you heard footsteps outside. You hurried towards the door which you had mindfully closed after entering. 
You listened to the footsteps carefully and instantly recognised them as Hoseok's. 
You knew your best friend all too well to know that if you made any noise from behind in this darkness or simply call out his name he was gonna freak out and most probably would let out a pterodactyl shriek, hence alarming everyone present in the vicinity. He had a terrible distaste of darkness and the creatures that he thought resided in it. Now, it was making you wonder how he was even managing to live in this manor that nests this creepy darkness in it once the sun goes down.
You waited for his footsteps to fade enough to follow him without scaring him. Once you were sure he was far enough you got out of the room slowly and you saw his silhouette entering Jeongguk’s room, probably to check up on him. You increased your speed in order to stop him before he started to fuss over your disappearance. 
Once you were in front of the door your speed reduced to a halt and you hesitated to enter as the two people inside — one with his hair wrapped in towel ready for a hair commercial checking the pulse of the other one with a weak posture and uninviting aura — turned and stared at your paused body with an expression that asked ‘why aren’t you entering?’ 
A staring competition ensued which lasted less than a minute and whose ending was marked by Hoseok’s question, “What are you thinking so hard about standing there?” 
Startled, you entered the room as if you had to after his question and while walking towards Hoseok you asked him nervously, “How is he doing?” 
“Better than I expected. Why didn’t you call me as soon as he woke up?” He asked while sitting down on the chair that you had dragged a lot earlier nearer to the bed to sit. 
You stood right by your friend and answered, “I was going to but his voice was raspy so I went to bring some water.” 
Hoseok looked at your hands and commented, “But I don’t see any water.” 
“Ah…” Your voice trailed off as you brought your two hands forward and looked at them unbelievingly. Fuck! I was too careless.
“I… couldn’t find water in the dining room. Come help me find it.” You grabbed Hoseok’s hand and pulled him trying to get him up. 
And when he finally got up you practically dragged him out of the room with the force of pulling a loaded cart uphill. 
You stopped only when you reached the dining room. You looked behind you, and once you confirmed it’s only you two there you whispered, steering it loud enough to be considered as a serious matter, “Hoba, that’s not Jeongguk!” 
“What?” On his face you could clearly see his disbelief in the fact that you just told him what you did. 
“I am serious.” 
“Aha! I know you are trying to pull a prank on me!” He cheerfully ended his investigation behind your weird claims. 
“I am not. Hoba, please you have to believe me now.” You begged to be taken seriously. 
He stared at you for a few moments as if looking for sincerity in your words and once he found it he asked, “Why do you feel like that? I didn’t sense anything off though.” 
“I… I could just sense it. He makes me uncomfortable. My Jeongguk would never make me feel that way.” You said. 
Hoseok pretended to vomit and said, “Okay. Stop. I get it.” 
You slapped his arm and retorted, “You should see yourself when you talk about Ji-a!” 
He laughed, “Sorry, sorry. My bad. But seriously it must be just your injured head talking! Who else it would be other than Jeongguk in the flesh! You have seen him. I have seen him. He is exactly like we know him.” 
He was right. There was no visible evidence of him not being Jeongguk - except for the brand mark on his neck! 
“Wait! Hoba, there’s…” You got interrupted in the middle by Duri, who entered the room and with his signature bow, he said, “Your graces, dinner is ready to be served.” 
He then proceeded to pull two chairs one by one and waited until both of you sat down. Once he went out to bring the food you told Hoseok, still using the same hushed tone, “I have something important to tell you. Let’s talk after dinner in your room.” 
“Alright, ma’am. I also have something to ask you. By the way, aren’t you going to feed Jeongguk? You used to do that whenever he got sick.” Hoseok’s voice was back to normal volume. 
“Ah, right…” Your voice drooped. He is not Jeongguk though.
When Duri came back with the dishes Hoseok asked him, “Duri, have you prepared the soup that I asked you for Jeongguk?” 
“Yes, milord. Earlier I came here after delivering the soup to him. But…” He paused and after a quick glance at you he looked back at Hoseok, “He said that he’ll wait for milady to finish her dinner.” 
Ever since you hugged him, your mind was constantly telling you that he wasn’t Jeongguk and you should stop caring and stay as far as possible from him, but Duri’s last sentence put an uneasiness inside you like coarse sand between your toes, and your fingers hesitated to grab the chopsticks. 
Unable to clean away the sand, you stood up and said, “Duri, can you please put away my food for now? I will have them after feeding Jeongguk.” 
“Wait wait wait!” Hoseok stood up as well. “Have your dinner first. You have to take medicine. And Jeongguk will have to take meds too after dinner which I haven’t brought from my room. Let’s just finish our dinner quickly then you can feed him with all the love you want to give him, hm?” 
Duri probably noticed your hesitation so he said, “Milady, I have put his soup back in the kitchen and his grace said that he wasn’t feeling like eating yet, so you can enjoy your dinner peacefully.” 
You let out a heavy sigh and sat back down. You didn’t have any appetite but any excuse seemed better than seeing the man in that room right now. 
At this point, relief seemed to be a far-fetched dream as one fear after another caught up to you. Putting the first nibble inside your mouth, you asked Duri, “Duri, won’t Lady Ruth be joining us for dinner tonight?”  
After the discoveries of this evening you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your inner dread from her. 
“Her grace has retired for the evening. She told me to relay the message that she regrets not being able to be your host for dinner tonight as she has some urgent business to attend to. She hopes for your understanding.” Duri answered. 
“Ah! That’s completely fine! Please tell Lady Ruth to not worry about it all. Ha ha!” You didn’t expect to be spared the dread but you were thankful nonetheless. 
You finished all that you were served quite quickly and after taking the meds, you requested Hoseok, “Hoba, please sit with me while I feed him. I really don’t want to be alone right now. And when I am done feeding him, tell him that you have something urgent to discuss with me, okay?” 
You sat on the chair by the man’s bed and Hoseok sat on the couch. Duri brought in the soup and a small table that could be kept on the bed for convenience. 
You had only fed him two spoons when the man asked, “Babe, are you okay? Your hands are shaking!” 
“Oh?” You didn’t notice how much your hands were trembling as you were solely focused on feeding him so that you could leave the room as soon as possible.  
“Ah… It’s nothing. I am probably cold, wearing this thin nightgown and all. The fire isn’t helping that much I guess. Don’t worry. I have brought warm clothes for myself too. Once you finish eating I will wear it.” You smiled nervously and held another spoonful of soup in front of his mouth. 
Slowly — probably too slow for you — he finished the bowl and Duri came and took away both the bowl and the table as if he was just waiting for it outside. 
You wiped your hand with the wet washcloth that Duri had brought and he brought another one which you used to wipe Jeongguk’s mouth. 
After you were done, you put on the sweater that you had brought for yourself. You made the man lie on the bed and pulled the blanket over him, quite reluctantly so. 
Despite there being three people in the room, all of whom happen to be best of friends, an awkward silence roamed inside its walls, and the only sound that could be heard loud enough as if it was happening inside one’s body, was the crackling of fire in the fireplace.
You looked at Hoseok and squinted your eyes which signalled both annoyance and a reminder to do his part. Hoseok, who had apparently zoned out, came back to his senses and abruptly started talking like a wannabe actor giving an audition, “Wonwon, I have something to talk to you about. Come with me. Jeongguk, please don’t fall asleep. I’ll bring your meds right away.” 
You were in no position to criticise your best friend’s acting skills as you replied in the same amateur manner, “Oh, okay, Hoba. Let’s go. I’ll be right back, b-babe.” 
Once you were in Hoseok’s room on the first floor, you could take the breath long needed. You released your body on his soft king-sized bed with a thump. 
You looked around the maroon and gold themed room while lying down and said, “This room is huge! Probably twice the size of the room Jeongguk is in. Maybe even more! Ji-a is going to go absolute nuts over this space!” 
Hoseok smiled while going over to a big glass shelf blocking one of the windows completely. That modernish furniture was certainly a misfit in this room preserving its classic medieval aesthetic. 
Seeing that hopeful and shy smile on his face you couldn’t help but mumble, “But probably you won’t be able to live here after all.” 
“Hm? What was that?” Hoseok asked. And you replied with the typical, “Nothing.” 
“By the way, where are the workers for the renovation? I haven't seen anyone or heard anything since this morning.” You asked. 
“I gave them a few days off. Seeing Jeongguk’s condition, some silence would do him good.” Hoseok explained, to which you just replied with a ‘hmm.’
The illusion that was relief came to an end as almost instantaneously you felt the nauseousness appear like a wave inside you just like this afternoon. Asking for the direction of his bathroom, you ran and vomited all that you had eaten for dinner in his sink. It was a gruesome sight. 
“Wonwon? You okay in there?” You heard Hoseok asking from outside the door of the bathroom. 
“Yea- Yeah I am fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” You replied, and letting a heavy and slow sigh escape from your lungs, you started cleaning the sink.
After returning the sink to its previous state, you washed your face. Your head hung low as you stood there to take a breather and let the water droplets fall without wetting your dress. Your whole head and throat felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to drink a shit ton of water. 
You couldn’t understand why you were throwing up so much. If your pregnancy was the reason then you were fine yesterday even after barely eating anything and travelling the whole day. Then why was this happening today when you had full meals and ample rest? 
Wiping the water from your face with your hand you looked up and saw yourself in the mirror that was fitted right above the sink which you had completely blindsided until now. 
The reflection in the mirror looked more miserable than the reflection that you saw a couple or so hours ago. Your eyes were red and watery and you could see the stress taking form on your face clearly. 
I have to get out of here.
You got out of the bathroom and saw your best friend standing there with worry cemented on his face. You gave him a faint smile and tried to reassure him, “I am fine! It’s just pregnancy sickness. Nothing more. I’ll be fine after a good rest. But first take off that towel! You’ll ruin your already balding hair!” 
“I am not the bald one though.” Hoseok sing-songed the mockery with a smirk on his face and slightly grazed his hands over your bald head. 
“Why you!” You chased after already running away Hoseok who stopped near his bed and nearly started wheezing and falling down because he was laughing so hard. 
When you reached him he started saying, “Time-out, time-out,” with panicky hand gestures and squeaky voice - his face red as a tomato. 
You stopped and sat on the bed - laughing hard yourself that brought tears to your eyes. 
After both of you had calmed down, you instructed Hoseok to sit on the carpet near your feet, “Come, sit here. I’ll wipe your hair dry. Why did you even wash your hair at this dead hour of the night?”
“Ah! I went out to talk to the mechanic. He said that he’d leave for the city once the rain lets up and bring a tow. And on my way back I got poured on so I had to wash my hair.” He explained. 
“And let me guess, you forgot that you can’t use a hair dryer here and you kept the towel on and forgot about it too.” You unwrapped the towel and let his long brunette hair that went well past his shoulder blades fall freely on his back. It still kept droplets trapped between its locks, so you began to make small partings in his hair and wipe them thoroughly. 
You didn’t have to see it to know that your best friend was smiling sheepishly knowing full well that you had stepped on his deeds with right footing. 
You held his hair up to wipe the wetness off his upper neck. 
At the police academy they taught you how to not to trust even the most innocent looking person while investigating a crime. But they didn’t teach how to apply the same doubtful glance on your loved ones. 
Your hand paused and so did your whole body. The same brand mark was on his neck. You felt deceived. Helpless. And suddenly, alone. 
You gulped hard in an attempt to swallow the fear. 
Play it cool. Play it cool.
“Y- you were telling me you had something important to say.” You asked.
“Ah! Yes. I was putting your clothes to dry on the clothes rack and I found a note in your pocket with some kind of a riddle on it. What is it?” He asked.
Shit! You had totally forgotten about the fortune card! 
You felt your vision blur for a moment. And as abruptly it blurred, it became clear too. 
“Oh, that? I bought a fortune cookie on my way here and it was inside that cookie. Honestly, I was pretty disappointed to see a weird note instead of a real fortune.” You huffed in disappointment. 
“Just that? I thought you were on some treasure hunting shenanigan this time without telling me!” He pouted. 
“As if!” You scoffed — the little playful push dissipated halfway before reaching his back. 
“By the way, you said you have something important to tell me. What is it?” He asked after closing his eyes as you started back again to wipe his hair but this time more gently. 
Noticing how you weren’t answering, he quipped, “Come on! Stop zoning out.” 
“Huh? Ah yeah… Well, the thing is, Hoba, I discovered some really disturbing things today and I think you shouldn’t live here anymore. In fact, you should run away with me as I am planning to do so tonight.” Your hands stopped once again and your voice gained a serious tone. 
If you want to play this game, let’s play this game.
“What?” He exclaimed loudly and turned around to face you, which made it apparent how shocked he was. 
“Hoba… You have to listen to me very carefully.” You got down from the bed and sat in front of him on the carpet. 
“Do you remember that I told you that I went to get water for Jeongguk this evening but couldn’t find any?” 
He nodded.
“Actually, I didn’t go to bring water. I was in Lady Ruth’s study.” He gave you a ‘are you mad?’ look. And you instantaneously began to justify your action. 
“I know. I know this sounds like I was trespassing, which technically I was, but hear me out! There I found this manor’s map along with a photograph of Lady Ruth and her husband. And the strange part is that their photo and the day they entered this mansion was dated in the year 1596!” 
“You sure you saw it right?” He asked doubtfully. 
“Are you seriously questioning a detective if she saw it right? The audacity.” You faked taking offense. 
“You forgot to mention ‘private’.” He chirped back. 
“That doesn’t make me any less of a detective. I would say I would be better if anything. So stop turning the conversation into the wrong lane!” 
“Okay. Okay! I am sorry.” He laughed. “But seriously though, it could be Lady Ruth’s ancestor with the same name and face! Things like that happen sometimes.” 
“That’d be a far stretch if we consider a few things - firstly why isn’t there any other of her ancestors’ pictures in the manor? Secondly, why do both of their husbands, as Lady Ruth has introduced to me, look the same and have the same name? And thirdly, she herself told me that her husband used to call her ‘Balam’ and this manor is named after her, which she had made obvious a few times. What other proof do you need? Hoba, I am telling you there’s something really wrong with the people here! And both you and I have to get out of here. Tonight!” You took a long breath after your long explanation to convince him. 
“But Wonwon… all the things that you are saying are just theoretical. We don’t have solid proof! I have been living here for months now! And trust me, I haven’t seen anything out of place!” He looked at you as if you were trying to forcefully prove something that wasn’t even there. 
“Hoba…” Your voice mellowed down and strangely, even though he wasn’t your best friend, you felt disheartened. “This isn’t like you at all… What changed in the last months that you are trying to imply that I am in the wrong? You used to be my number one supporter!” 
“Wonwon…” He held your hand in an attempt to put balm on the bleeding wound in your heart. 
You softly tugged your hand out of his cold ones and sniffled hard to stop your tears from coming out, “Fine! You want proof? I’ll give you proof! You remember what I told you about Jeongguk, right? In her collection room, I saw a miniature that was dated the day Jeongguk went missing and it even has its initials and Jeongguk’s car in it! I may be going crazy, like you think, but I know too damn well that it takes more than a day to create something as detailed as that. Come with me to the collection room. And look for one with the code starting with 21311017 and ending with PY. That’d be my dad.” 
“Wha- Alright, let’s go!” He stood up and extended his hand to help you up but you ignored his waiting hand and stood up yourself. 
“Where did you keep my clothes?” You asked. 
“It’s in the bathroom of the room you were sleeping in. And your phone is in the drawer of the bedside table. You go first. I’ll see you in front of the study in ten minutes.” He replied solemnly and sighed a quick sigh. 
You didn’t say anything back. On your way back, the steps of the stairs were darker than when you ascended it with him. Your steps felt heavy and the stairs and the hallway seemed to go on forever.
Finally entering your room, you went straight to the bathroom. The bathroom was almost the size of a big bedroom in any high class apartment in the city, and you found another smaller room within it where there was a small fireplace and several clothes racks. 
You took your clothes and searched your pockets and let out a relieved sigh after finding the note in one of your pockets. 
You changed into your previous outfit and sat on your bed to read the note again.
WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN
IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN
This time you could understand that it wasn’t a riddle rather a clear-cut instruction on what you have to do. 
Who is that old lady? And why is she helping me like this?
No matter what, you decided to follow the path that you saw as your only way to escape and your single shot at rescuing Jeongguk. 
You took out your phone from the drawer — it still had 15% battery but no reception yet — and kept it in the inside pocket of your jacket.
You inhaled and exhaled deeply and went to the man’s room. 
He was lying down in the exact position you had left him. His eyes were closed and he was taking slow and steady breaths. 
Your plan was to quietly take your haversack and get out of there. Before taking your haversack, you hesitated for a moment and contemplated whether you should take the sweater off of him since it was one of Jeongguk’s favourite ones and it made you sad seeing it on somebody else. 
Get it together, Sowon. It’s not the time to be materialistic.
You gave yourself soundless slaps on your cheeks and picked up the haversack.
You looked at the person lying on the bed one last time before turning to leave, but your eyes made contact with each other. His emotionless eyes were looking at you directly and that startled you. 
“O-oh Jeongguk! Did I wake you? I was just leaving! Rest up.” You laughed nervously. 
“Where are you going, babe?” He asked; his voice was groggy - the voice that had made your insides feel like jelly on many mornings. 
But tonight it made you sick. 
“I am just going to give Hoseok a few things that I brought with me. Why don’t you go back to sleep? It may take long.” Come on! Say ‘okay’.
“It’s fine. I’ll be waiting. I want to sleep with you by my side tonight.” He smiled. 
“But Jeongguk… You are sick!” You make me sick! 
“It’s not like we’ll be doing something strenuous! Plus the bed is so big… I’d feel lonely by myself. With you here, why should I sleep alone?” He smirked. And you thought if he was real Jeongguk you would be in his arms already.
“Alright. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” You gave him a stiff smile and got out of the room. 
The man pretending to be Hoseok was waiting for you outside of the study. When he noticed you with your haversack, he asked in bewilderment, “Are you already making a run for it?” 
“Hush! Not yet. But who knows when I have to. You should have been prepared beforehand as well.” You whispered and entered the study. 
The candles inside were halfway through their lives and the room was slightly darker than before. 
“I couldn’t open that door earlier. Can you?” You whispered pointing to the ominous olive coloured small door on the photo-cluttered wall. 
“I’ll give it a try.” He said and went straight to the door. 
With his slight pull the door slid open leaving your jaw to hit the floor. 
“Wow, Jung Hoseok! You are the mvp!” You praised him and gave him a light pat on his shoulder. 
He held your arm and turned you around to face him before you could cross the threshold, “Listen, if I don’t find what you told me then you are going straight to bed. I am not going to go along with your fantasies any longer. Understood?”
His sudden declaration of terms and conditions startled you but you just nodded. 
“Good! Also we must hurry! Duri will be here to change the candles before they run out completely! So you better hurry!” He whispered in an urgent tone and closed the door behind him after both of you got in. 
It was your second time seeing the colossal structure but it didn’t fail to make you feel insignificant and amazed yet again. This time though the added dimness poured black ashes inside your stomach and you felt nervous. 
You brought out the flashlight and walked ahead, “Hoba, I am gonna walk ahead and take a look at the miniature I saw earlier once more. You look for the one I told you.”
But the next second you paused and said, “Wait! On second thought, I am going to look for my dad’s miniature. I’ll make a sound once I find it. You stand guard here. Make a sound if someone comes.” 
“Wait! Wonwon, what are you planning to do if what you said turns out to be true?” He asked. Even in the dim candle light you could see his expression — he was concerned and was feeling lost. 
Nice acting.
You kept your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him perhaps, or maybe yourself, “We’ll figure something out… as we always have.” You tried to smile. 
You didn’t wait to see or hear his reaction and soon you were out of his sight, in the maze of shelves, towards the center. 
Once you reached the heart of the room, you exhaled long and took a few quick breaths as if preparing yourself for the next step. You indeed came to look at the miniature Jeongguk was supposed to be ‘in’. But that was only a part of a bigger plan. You glanced at the snowglobe inside the glass cover. The rain had stopped inside the snowglobe and it was basking in the shining full moon light. 
You quickly put your haversack on the floor and opened its mouth. You held the glass cover carefully and started lifting it. It was heavier and thicker than it looked. You had to be careful not to drop it. Keeping it on the table right beside the snow globe you quickly smuggled the snow globe inside your haversack. You slid the glass cover to the middle, since it was closer to the edge of the round table, in fear of knocking it over and making a noise loud enough to bring the whole mansion, i.e. just four other people, in this space. 
Putting on the haversack you flashed the light inside the never-changing 21421002306JJ miniature. Gguk, I promise I’ll save you.
You looked at the other miniatures of recent dates and found the one that you didn’t mention to him about — 214204161001JH carved on the silver tag of a miniature of Balam Manor. 
Hoba… 
With hurried steps you went to the outer wings of the structure where you hoped you would find a miniature with your dad’s initials. You felt grateful that everything was managed serially so you just had to scan through the years quickly. 
In the second wing from inside you found dates from the 2100s, and on the third rack from the bottom in one of the shelves — you couldn’t determine on which wall it was — you found what you were dreading until now - what if I can’t find it?
The 21311017333PY silver tag shone brightly as you looked up at it. 
You whistled a particular tone that you had always used as a signal for your best friend since childhood, but it came out rather weak since you were trying to keep the sadness at the border of your throat. 
He was by your side in an instant. He looked at the tag you were pointing at and gasped softly, “Oh my god… You were right. What should we do now?”
“Can… Can you lift me up, Hoba? I wanna take a look inside of it…” You softly whispered and looked at him with teary eyes. 
He didn’t say anything but just knelt down so you could climb on his shoulders. 
You quickly swiped off the tears, and keeping the haversack on the floor, you climbed on his shoulders. 
With wobbly steps he stood up. You chuckled at that and chirped a quick apology to him. 
The atmosphere inside the miniature was just as unmoving as Jeongguk’s. The woods were the same, the road was the same and the exit sign too was the same. There was a car in it as well. The only tiny difference in it was that it was your dad’s car that you had seen him drive off in for the last time. 
“Hoba, I am done.” You whispered a little loudly. 
He slowly lowered his wobbly body down and you got off. You got off and couldn’t get up from the floor. You wanted to ugly cry but all you could do was whimper while swallowing the sounds and bearing the pain inside your chest and throat. 
He sat down beside you and hugged you. You clutched on the sleeve of his sweater anchoring yourself and buried your face in his chest.  
The exhaustion that you were keeping at bay, trying not to let them overwhelm you, came crashing down on you again - taking you violently, drowning you mercilessly. But this time, you felt relief. You had found him. Now all that was left was rescuing him from that still, unnatural world controlled by evil. 
“Wonwon!” He whispered. “I think someone’s here. It’s probably Duri. We have to get out of here!” 
“What? But how? There’s only one way out!” You said sniffling as quietly as you could. 
He thought for a moment and said, “You wait here. I’ll distract Duri and once he is out of the way I will come and get you, alright?” 
You nodded. He gave you a reply-nod and went out. You swiftly and stealthily went behind him and hid by the door. As he closed the door behind him after getting out, you heard Duri’s voice, “Your grace, I believe I have already informed you that this space is off limits in her grace’s absence.” 
You heard his cheerful voice, “I am so sorry, Duri! It totally slipped my mind. It’s just so fascinating. I was going to return now anyways. By the way, before you change the candles here, can you change the ones in my room? I have some work to do! Hm? Pretty please?” 
You pictured Duri sighing and rolling his eyes in defeat, which you were sure wouldn’t be visible on his face. 
“Yes, your grace.” You heard Duri say. 
“I’ll be there in a sec!” He replied. 
A few seconds passed and he opened the door. 
You scrambled on your feet and quickly got out. 
“Listen!” He held you by your shoulders. “Stay in your room for now. I’ll come at midnight and we will make an escape through the living room window.” 
“But Hoba!” You said for no particular reason. 
“Don’t worry. I know Duri’s surveillance pattern. We will make it. Together!” He gave your shoulders a light shake as if to transfer his resolution into you. 
Taking your nod as a yes, he went to the first floor where he had sent Duri earlier. 
•••
You entered the room and saw Jeongguk sitting on his bed. 
“You sure took long. I thought you abandoned me.” Jeongguk said with a blank expression. 
You didn’t have any excuse ready. With a sheepish smile you went towards him. 
Strangely, you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all anymore. Rather you felt a very familiar feeling that you were so used to, that you were so craving for. 
Reaching him, you hugged him - his head on your belly. 
“I am sorry that I was gone for so long. We will be home soon.” You said softly and slowly ran your fingers through his soft curls. 
“No.” 
Jeongguk’s words confused you. 
“What do you mean?” You asked. 
“As long as you have this I can’t go anywhere.” His voice sounded cruel. 
He put his hands on your belly, and your belly started growing, and in the blink of an eye it was the size of that of an eight month pregnant woman. 
Before you could comprehend what was happening, Jeongguk’s hands grew claws and he ripped your belly apart and yanked out a bloody lump of alive flesh. 
•••
You woke up with a startle. You didn’t realise when you had fallen asleep on the bed of your room while waiting to get out. 
You rubbed your face - it was covered in cold sweat. You touched your belly and felt relieved. 
You quickly checked for the time on your phone, desperately hoping it wasn’t midnight already and felt relieved that it was still forty-five minutes away.
You took out your desert eagle and the holster and tied it around your waist in case you had to use it.
Putting your haversack on your back, you slowly poked your head out of the room to check if there was anyone. 
Relieved to see the empty hallway, you got out. With soft steps you reached near the next room’s door and peeked inside. Jeongguk's doppelganger was lying down but you couldn’t figure out whether he was asleep or not. 
With similar soft steps you scurried and crossed his door and reached the end of the hallway. 
According to the blueprint, there was supposed to be a door leading to it, and the only possibility you saw was the 6 foot long and 4 foot wide painting of the waterfall that was fixed on the wall at the very end. 
You slowly started pushing it from one side but it didn’t budge. You tried the other side and got the same result. 
You felt panic slowly starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. You looked at the torchlit yet dark hallway and hoped no one came now. 
You looked up and down the painting, illuminating it with your flashlight. You began to feel its sides with your hands as far as it reached and looked for anything out of the ordinary. But there was none on either side. 
You sat down on the floor and began inspecting the underside of the frame, and there you found a groovy pattern made for four fingers. You put your fingers except the thumb in it and gave it a push upwards. It made a clicking sound and the painting slid upwards opening a cavity its size. 
You clenched your fist and pulled your elbow towards yourself as a victory celebration and stepped into the cavity. 
You entered and turned to your right. The long hallway stretching ahead was lit with smaller fire torches than the ones in the main hallway. The unwavering shadows underneath them had the impression of lurking entities waiting to pounce. You looked behind you and saw a dark and narrow passageway that, according to the blueprint, led to the kitchen outside. 
Logically, it was the shorter path to escape to the outside but there was also a bigger possibility of Duri being there. 
Your escapeway was lying right ahead in the middle of the hallway — a door where the staircase in the main building was. 
You saw a thick rope attached to the bottom of the painting from inside and its end was hung on an iron hook on the wall. You pulled the rope and closed the painting behind you, locking yourself inside the restricted passage. 
Carefully you trod ahead — fast enough to get there quickly, slow enough to not make any noise, your barefoot helped. 
The air in the hallway was dense and heavy with the smell of burning wax. The lights flickered subtly as you moved past each of them shifting the air. The more seconds you passed there, the more difficult it became for you to breathe properly. There was no visible outlet to let the air move freely and the years of trapped air latched onto your nose and lungs and was squeezing out more than you could take from it. 
Not being able to tolerate it anymore, you ran the last bit and took a longer breath once you reached the door. 
The garlic-like odour of phosphorus hit your nose sharply. You looked up and it became clear to you how the neon sign above the door was working when there wasn’t supposed to be any electricity in the manor. 
You should have immediately unlatched the door. You should have immediately walked out instead of staring at the shining bright green neon sign nailed above the door that said - The Exit. 
You should have made your escape before the voice so familiar to you could call you and say, “Wonwon, I told you we’ll make it together. So why are you leaving me behind?” 
Your body stiffened as you stared right at the door refusing to acknowledge the source of the sound. You could hear his footsteps approaching.  
You felt unnerved. Your eyes frantically looked for the latch. Once you found it, you dared to look at the direction of the dim hallway that you had crossed a while ago. You saw your best friend’s figure walking towards you. The monster lurking in the shadows turned out to be the wolf in grandma's skin. 
Keeping your shaking finger on the latch, you yelled knowing full well it’s of no use, your voice hoarse in fear, “Stop right there. I know you are not Jung Hoseok.” 
A sinister smile cut through the figure’s cheeks. 
A hot tear drop trickled down your cheeks as you tried to stand your ground. 
“Here I thought I was putting up a perfect act. But you fooled me. Anyways, I am glad I don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s annoying.” The figure said. 
His voice distorted and you witnessed the most horrifying scene unfold in front of your eyes. 
The slit that had occurred on the figure’s cheeks while smiling widened and you saw your best friend’s skin getting ripped apart - first the face, then the skull, then the full body in half through the middle - slowly, like a flimsy cloth. 
You desperately tried to open the hundreds of years old latch. Duri freed himself from Hoseok’s skin that fell on the ground like a wet rag and dissolved into Duri’s body like slime.
The skin on your palm started burning. 
Duri started running towards you and his body began to disfigure in a gruesome manner — his back hunched, his arms grew longer, crossing his knees, his legs bent like an animal and he grew claws on both hands and feet. His hairless body was grey in colour and there was pure cruelty in his glowing lidless eyes and lipless mouth where only long and sharp teeth were visible. 
Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else except for the impending danger and the latch that needed to be opened. 
The moment you fully unlocked the latch, you found yourself flying. Duri had grabbed your haversack and had flinged you to the opposite wall. 
Your side hit the wall and you fell on your back. You realised you’d have broken a few bones if you had been thrown any harder. Due to the impact, your flashlight broke, leaving shattered glass pieces on the floor. 
A series of coughs escaped your lungs and you sat up only to see that Duri was holding your haversack. 
No no no no no no. 
Panic spread across your body like a wildfire. If Duri got his hands on the snow globe then all of this would be for nothing. You quickly took out your gun and aimed at Duri. 
His face didn’t have the opportunity to show much expression but you could imagine that he was smirking mockingly at you while he said, “Your father didn’t teach you stealing is a bad thing?” 
He took out the snow globe. 
You gritted your teeth and aimed at his head and fired. It hit right above his temple, but to your horror, his skin absorbed the bullet as if you had just shot a viscous substance. 
“You need to do more than that to hurt me.” His distorted voice echoed in the hallway. 
You shot another round which hit his eye. 
You didn’t hope for much and were ready to shoot another round, but it seemed to have an effect on Duri. It took him a second to come near you and the next second you were grabbed by your collar too tightly to even breath. 
He smelt like swamps and rotten vegetables, which made breathing in his vicinity even more difficult for you. 
“Humans.” Duri growled. “You are all so fragile and insignificant, yet you stop at nothing to prove your dominance over things that you can’t control.” 
You coughed and struggled to get out of his clasp. 
Duri’s grip on your collar lightened but he didn’t let go. 
“You know what, your father probably thought of the same thing when he willingly entered the Devil’s Crest to rescue your uncle. Such a prideful little bastard. Leaving his family behind with the confidence that he will be able to get out. Aren’t you the same as him? Prideful, overconfident and rude.” Duri inched closer as his hurt dimmed eye began to regain its glow. 
“Do not dare to speak of my father with your stinky mouth.” You barked. 
At your retort, Duri laughed maniacally and let you go. 
“You have got some nerve. Do you think your nerves will save you from the repercussions of hurting my eye?” 
He took your hand and kept three silver tags on your palm that magically appeared in his big clawed hand. Those three tags belonged to Jeongguk, Hoseok and your father. 
You looked up at Duri and he said, “Choose one of them that you want to save. I’ll spare his life. Choose very carefully. Because the unchosen ones aren’t going to have the most merciful deaths.” He started singing ‘eenie meenie miney mo’ and placed his index finger on each silver tag with each word. 
You closed your eyes and took a sharp breath.
“Are you saying that my father is still alive?” You asked.
“Very much.” He replied. “Now tell me which two tags do you want to return?” 
“What if I don’t?” 
“Then one of them loses the chance to leave.” 
The silver tags in your palms suddenly felt like they weighed a ton. They wanted to drag you down and bury you under the earth. 
How were you supposed to make a choice that you had no right to make? How can you knowingly push someone to their demise? But…  
But how can you deny someone their one chance at escaping this hell?
You longed to see your father. 
Would I be able to see him if he gets to leave? You didn’t know. 
What if I couldn’t escape? What’s gonna happen when he gets home and sees mom in the arms of another man? How will he react when he will know that I haven’t returned home in two days? Will he spend the rest of his life searching for me just like I did for him?
Jeongguk… How will Jeongguk live after knowing that I went missing while searching for him? How will he live after losing both his love and child? 
A memory from a couple years ago hit your head. Both of you had gone on a foreign trip to New Zealand. On the second day, you were going to the Bay of Islands by bus. When you reached there, your keychain fell off and went under the seat while you were standing up to get out. You had told Jeongguk to go ahead and get the luggage from the bus bunker while you got the keychain. But the keychain had rolled off quite far. And the bus, not knowing you were still inside, had driven off as soon as both of your luggage was off of it. 
You managed to get off at the next stop just ten minutes away and take the return bus. But even though you had consoled Jeongguk over the phone that you were fine and you were returning, when you reached where he was, he hugged you so tightly as if you would disappear if he let you go. And his silent tears wetted your dress. He had always been such a worrywart. 
Would he be okay?  
You wondered how Hoseok was doing inside the cage called the Balam Manor. He was probably on the verge of losing his spirit. He had always been good under pressure but never good when he was lonely. 
How would Hoseok’s parents feel about losing their son? How would Jiwoo cope with losing her brother? How would Ji-a live with shattered dreams in an empty home? Can I face them after pushing Hobi to certain death? What about Jeongguk’s parents? Can I face them if I do not choose Jeongguk now? 
What would dad have done? He probably would have chosen the one with the better chance at a good life. And at this moment, it seems to be… 
You picked up Hoseok’s with your other hand and silently gave back Jeongguk’s and your father’s tags back to Duri. 
“That was fun. Though I was expecting a stream of tears, these few drops are good too. You are a smart one, aren’t you? Now you won’t have to go back and answer your boyfriend's family and your mom why you didn't choose their son and husband. Now sit here like a good girl until I come back.” Duri said and turned back with the snowglobe. The sigil on his neck was bright like burning coal.
“Are you really going to let Hoseok leave?” You shouted behind him. 
“Of course, since we need an empty space anyway for you. But I can’t guarantee if it’s Hoseok or his body that’s going to lea—” 
Duri couldn’t finish his sentence as you hit his neck with the fire torch that you had taken out of its place by flinging your haversack at its bottom. 
You emptied the rubbing alcohol bottle from the first aid kit on him that you had taken out from your haversack before flinging it. 
Duri screeched an ear piercing cry in pain as his head caught fire, and he tried to put it out by slapping his hands profusely on his head. 
Taking the opportunity, you grabbed the snowglobe that had fallen on the floor and ran for the door. 
Despite being in pain, Duri ran behind you to catch you, but you had already crossed the threshold of the exit. Judging by the fact that the snowglobe didn’t get a single scratch on it even after falling on the floor with such an impact, it could only mean that it needed even more brutal force to break. There should be a field past the door and if you could just enter the woods beyond it somehow, then you would be able to find enough time to break the snowglobe. 
You shut the door behind you and looked ahead. 
What?
You were back in the hallway that you had just ran out from a moment ago. You had entered through the door that you had just left through. 
You looked around yourself and found only yourself in that empty hallway. Duri wasn’t there. Then you noticed the fire torch that you had flinged a while ago — it was intact in its place. 
Your haversack wasn’t anywhere to be seen either. 
You looked back at the door. It had the same neon exit sign on top of it. 
Is this the missing exit sign from the Balam Manor miniatures?
If I go back through this door then Duri will surely catch me. I have no choice but to run inside the manor.
Without wasting any time, you ran towards the painting through which you had entered. But when you got out of it, you found yourself in complete darkness. You went back to the secret passageway and shot at one of the fire torch holders. It fell loose and the fire torch fell on the floor. You took it and reentered the mansion’s main hallway. You were taken aback upon noticing you were in the right hallway instead of the left one. 
But that wasn’t what surprised you the most. It seemed like you had entered a different mansion altogether. The interior was in ruins and was covered in years of dust, dirt and cobwebs. You slowly walked through the filth. You had nothing on yourself except the snowglobe and the gun. You must find an instrument to break the snowglobe soon. 
You came across rooms that you hadn’t seen before and it all seemed haphazardly placed. The paintings on the walls had lost all their glory to silverfishes and moths. Your feet left deep prints on the innumerable unsweeped layers of dust on the floor and your bare feet wiggled in them. 
After walking for a few minutes, you reached where the living room was supposed to be, but there was just an empty space and a rectangular opening in the floor through which a staircase went further downstairs. 
Is that the basement? 
You noticed a faint light coming from inside it. Conflicted on whether you should go check out the source or not, you stopped short on your track. 
It could very much be Duri or… a survivor. 
You decided that you would just take a peek and run back if you sensed any danger. 
With careful steps you descended the stairs.  You ended up in a well-lit and short hallway through whose middleway there was an arch-like structure that led to another hallroom with no door. 
You saw a figure kneeling on the floor in a defeated position with his head hanging low. 
His outfit, his short hair was all too familiar to you. 
You kept the snowglobe near the arch just in case and approached him cautiously. 
His bare neck had no branding on them. 
You gasped in a struggle to breathe as tears welled up in your eyes and you called out- 
“Hoba?” 
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— © 2024 apotatomashedbybts, all rights reserved. Reposting or modifying of any kind is not allowed. Translations are not allowed.
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37 notes · View notes
hobeemin · 10 months
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midsummer
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💐 genre(s): urban fantasy, romance, smut, hybrid au, fluff (so much)
💐 pairing: faun!kim seokjin x poc(f)reader 
💐 summary: once a year on the summer soltice, the veil between the realms thins. the couple can finally walk among the world without a care. what happens during midsummer, stays on midsummer.
💐 rating: 18+
💐 warning(s): swearing, exhibitionism, pet names, hickies, breast play, cock warming, dirty talk, penetration, unprotected sex (psa wrap it up), shooky being shooky
💐 word count: 2.3k
💐 credits: 💜 a special thanks to @kthpurplesyou​ , bee thank you so much for beta reading this fic!! 💜
banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3
💐 a/n: this is sort of a sequel to my fic Moon. i’d suggest reading that before this to understand what is going on 💜
for @btshoneyhive honey harvest cheers to another year with bhh. happy anniversary! 🎊🎉
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“Jin, I’m home!” Y/N walked into her apartment, kicking her shoes off as she hung her coat on the hook and tossed her keys into the bowl near the door.
She didn’t have to go far to find the Faun, as something delicious intrigued her senses, making her walk into the kitchen. She leaned in the doorway, watching as he chopped some vegetables before dropping them into a pan on the stove. Her lips curled into a smile as he cooked, too lost in his task to notice her. She was still in awe from the first time they met. And just as before, he wore his favorite sweatpants, sans any other clothing, minus the apron wrapped snug around his waist. 
Y/N crept up slowly behind, wrapping her arms around him, and stood on tiptoes to kiss the shell of his ear. Jin froze before a smile appeared on his lips? He lifted her easily without missing a beat and kissed her deeply. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, grinning into the kiss, happy to be back in his arms.
He pulled away, rubbing his nose against hers. “Well, hello there.”
“Hi to you too,” she said, giving him a quick peck.
“You just get in?”
“Mhmm. I called your name but got distracted by the view,” she teased with a wink.
He laughed, setting her back down. “How was work?”
“Eh, more or less productive,” she answered. “Hobi stopped by during my lunch break, so we went out to eat.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Not bad. He says hello and wants to hang out again at some point.”
It had been almost three years since Jin appeared in her life. She wanted a fresh start after a bad breakup and moving across town.
And a fresh start she received indeed.
Jin fell into her life. Literally.
After a nasty bump on the head, Y/N could see this magical man; the rest was history. 
Due to his…nature, being seen publicly by any mortals would lead to chaos. That was the last thing he wanted for her. Of course, there was an initial shock when Hoseok met him. It took a while, but her friend grew accustomed to the Faun and became the best of friends. 
Y/N opened the cabinet rummaging through the different spices and handed it to him. “It’s awfully quiet here. Where’s Shooky?”
“Sleeping out on the fire escape,” he answered, stirring the vegetables.
Y/N grabbed a carrot stick from the cutting board and leaned against the counter. She chewed quietly, watching him. “Want some more help?”
Jin shot her a knowing look, making her laugh. Right. He was particular about cooking. And while he did love when Y/N was his sous chef, they’d become distracted, and then the food would burn or dry out. She put her hands up.
“Alright. Point made.”
He smiled warmly, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I promise to let you know when it���s ready.”
“Works for me; I’ll go wash this grime away.”
As the water cascaded down, Y/N contemplated her situation. 
Shaking her hair out of the shower cap, Y/N went to the fire escape. Her loveable but sassy Bombay cat Shooky was resting near her plants. Ears twitching, the cat opened his eyes. He stretched and walked up to her, purring as he rubbed her leg. She giggled and reached down to scratch behind his ears.
“Well, aren’t you being sweet today? You must want something.”
Shooky stopped purring and glared at her. “Hardly. I can’t just be happy to see you.”
Y/N snorted as she continued scratching his ears. “I’ll let you be sweet for now.”
Shooky rolled his eyes before plopping himself in her lap and napping. Y/N looked out at the view watching the twinkling lights of  the skyline as twilight approached. 
Jin stuck his head out, a faint smile on his lips when he saw Y/N dozing off with Shooky in her lap. He almost didn’t want to wake her, but he leaned in, kissing her forehead to wake her up. She stirred, opening her eyes as a sleepy smile appeared.
“Did I fall asleep?”
“Mmhmm. Dinner is ready. Or do you want me to put a plate up for you, Princess?”
She shook her head just as Shooky woke up and stretched his body. “No, I’ll join you.”
Once Shooky jumped from her lap, Jin helped her back through the window and towards the dining room table. He set the table, ensuring the food was arranged beautifully on the plates. Y/N filled Shooky’s bowls before taking her seat as Jin grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack. He poured them each a glass as they settled into their meal. Y/N took a bite as her eyes closed in euphoria.
“This is delicious.”
“I’m happy you like it, Princess.” 
They made small talk as they finished their dinner, and Y/N washed the dishes before joining Jin on the couch. He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her cheek as he turned to a movie they wanted to watch. Y/N settled her head into his lap, and he stroked her hair. 
“So what do you and Hobi plan to do?”
“A festival coming up next week seemed pretty cool.”
“Oh? What festival?”
Y/N reached over to grab her phone and scrolled through her messages. “Um, a Midsummer festival.”
His eyes widened. “Midsummer?”
“Uh-huh.”
His brows knitted in confusion as he began to mutter to himself. “Midsummer? Already? Couldn’t be.”
Y/N twisted to look up at him with concern. “Jin, what’s wrong?”
He glanced at her as a small smile appeared. “Nothing. Seriously.”
“Are you sure?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his face. Y/N tried not to worry, but Jin had one of the most expressive faces. If he was upset or happy, it showed on his face.
The week went by without issues until she came home one day to Jin and Hoseok whispering to each other. They stopped talking once she entered the living room and returned to playing their video game.
“That wasn’t suspicious at all,” she commented as she placed her bags down.
Hoseok chuckled, giving Jin a long glance. “How was work, Y/N?”
“It was work. How was y’alls day?”
Jin pressed the pause button, but to Hobi’s dismay, and finally looked at his girlfriend. “Good. Are you busy this weekend?”
Y/N walked over to scan the calendar on the corkboard. She shook her head, turning back towards him. 
“No. I’m free this weekend. Why?”
“Just be ready around seven and dress up. I’m taking you out on a date.”
Her jaw almost reached the ground.
---
“Jin?”
“Yes, Princess?”
“Are you sure it’s safe to be out here?”
He turned to look at her with a grin. “Of course.”
“But–”
“Do you notice anything?”
“Notice what?”
“Exactly. No one is looking at me.”
He was right. No one gave him a second glance. It felt strange. The horns on his head didn’t cause any alarm. The Faun was finally out in public with his girlfriend. As they sat there at the restaurant enjoying each other’s company, Jin couldn’t help but feel relieved. He could finally be out in public with Y/N.
“So why can we be out like this?” she asked as they walked through town.
Jin brought her hand to his lips, giving her an endearing smile. “It’s midsummer night, Princess. The longest night is during the summer solstice. I can walk around and be seen, but not as a Fae.”
Kissing her hand, he noticed it calmed her as they continued their walk.
“So where are we going?”
Jin chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. “It's a surprise.”
She quirked her brow at him inquisitively. She didn’t enjoy surprises, but she trusted that Jin wouldn’t do something too extreme. As they walked through the town, she noticed as they approached a park with a gazebo in the middle. The gasp that left her lips was enough evidence for Jin to know she was pleased. 
Fairy lights tingled around the railings with flowers and ivy wrapped around them. A table was set with the works, champagne chilling in a bucket as soft music played from the speakers.
Y/N turned to look at Jin in disbelief. “Why? How?”
He reached up to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “Hoseok helped me set this up.”
“This is beautiful,” she whispered.
“Hardly pales in comparison to you, Princess,” he replied.
Her face heated up from his words, and he laughed at how cute her response was. He led her to one of the chairs and helped her into the seat before taking his own. Y/N was in awe, looking around the gazebo.
They outdid themselves. She made a mental note to get Hoseok. He could never keep a secret, so it was amazing how he held it in.
Now that she was here, Jin had become visibly nervous. They enjoyed the grilled vegetables and chicken meal as small talk carried on. He fiddled with the napkins while trying to think of something to say.
“–Jin?”
He blinked a few times. “I’m sorry?”
Y/N looked at him curiously. “Are you okay? You seem quiet.”
He gave her a small smile before clearing his throat and drinking some water. It was now or never. “Y/N?”
“Yes?” 
Jin stood from his seat and buttoned his jacket. Clearing his throat again, he held his hand out for her to take. Y/N wiped her mouth and grabbed his hand as he walked her over to one of the archways. Staring into her eyes, it calmed him down a bit.
“Y/N, we've been through some tough times. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through before we met, but since then, I never wanted to see you cry again. These three years have been the best time of my life, and I want to continue this journey with you.”
Was this happening? Y/N was speechless as she listened to Jin. It was happening.
Jin dropped to one knee, holding a small box covered in crushed velvet. As he opened it, she let out a choked sob. The rose gold band glittered with garnet gems. 
“Will you marry me, Princess?”
Still fighting back the tears, her head bobbed. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Seokjin.”
He slipped the ring on with care before pulling her into his arms. It seemed as if time stopped. It wasn’t until his lips brushed hers that she was taken out of her trance. She gripped the front of his shirt, deepening the kiss. Jin groaned into the kiss letting his tongue swipe her lips. Y/N obliged, moaning softly. Jin shuddered as soon as her hands left his chest and reached to caress his horns.
He broke their kiss, breathing hard.
“You know what that does to me?”
“Of course, I do, Jin,” she cooed softly.
Growling, he gripped her waist and shoved her against a pillar. “So you want to do this right out in the open?”
A mischievous grin crossed her face. “Sounds tempting.”
She leaned closer, nipping his neck as he bit down on his lip. “I promise not to be too loud.”
Jin panted as he pulled up her dress with a smirk. “Fuck that. I want everyone to know now.”
Y/N wasted no time unzipping his pants. So much franticness at the moment, wanting only to reach one goal together.
Not much prep work was needed as Jin’s cock slapped out onto his stomach, the cum dribbling down an angry head. Y/N licked her lips as she slipped her panties down. Jin grabbed them, putting them in his back pocket. Grinning, he hiked up her leg, wrapping it around his waist. Jin slipped past her folds with one fluid motion after getting her consent. His head dropped to her shoulder as expletives flew from his lips.
“So tight, Princess. And all for me.”
“Uh-huh. M-Move Jin. P-Please,” she begged.
His hips snapped forward as lustful noises erupted in the gazebo. Jin settled between the swell of her breasts, licking, sucking, nipping her flesh as marks began to bloom. Y/N’s nails dug into his shoulders, holding on for dear life—skin slapping skin. 
Promises pass their lips in their haze of pleasure. 
“I love you, Princess,” he murmured.
“I-I l-love you too, Jin. Fuck, right there. Yes!”
“I wanna cum deep in that pussy. May I, Princess? Can I fill you up?”
“Yes! Please!”
He slowed his movements, letting her feel every inch. Her walls clenched around him as he kissed her feverishly. 
“I’m so close, Jin. P-Please,” she purred into his ear.
“Cum with me, Princess,” he husked out.
At that moment, as his movements stuttered, Y/N clamped around his cock as she felt the spring unravel. Gasping, she cried out as Jin let out a long groan; he twitched before painting her walls white, filling her to the brim.
They lay against the pillar catching their breath, until Jin gently placed her on the ground, holding her up. Y/N pecked his lips as a sigh of contentment passed her lips. Jin stroked her hair, smiling at her.
“How are you feeling?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I never excepted to be engaged or even have sex outside in a park.”
Jin’s distinct laugh had him tipping his head back. “Okay, the latter was not planned, but I have to say, now that I know you like exhibitionism–”
“Aht. Aht. Let’s not get carried away. I got caught in the moment.”
“It was a great moment.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You lucky I love you.”
Jin kissed her forehead, nuzzling her cheek. “I love you too, Princess.”
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snoozeagustd · 1 year
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moodboard ask game:
taehyung + 🌈⛅ [pink, spring] for @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered
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micdropnet · 4 months
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Official Closing of MDE
Dear members and associates,
We are sad to announce the closing of Mic Drop Entertainment. It was a tough decision, but is needed. It was not preferable, but too many factors were not in our favor. The MDE page will remain up as an archive of our members craft. If you have any further questions, please DM @kiss-seokjin .
It was an honor to work with everyone. Happy New year.
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sweetestofchaos · 2 years
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𝔻ℕ𝕀 | 𝕋𝕠-𝔻𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥 | ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥 ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤
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𝔾𝕆𝕋𝟟 ⇝ members | 𝔹𝕋𝕊 ⇝ members |  𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕒 𝕏
𝔸𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕫 |  ℕℂ𝕋 & 𝕎𝕒𝕪𝕍 | 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕪 𝕂𝕚𝕕𝕤  
𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕖 | 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟 | 𝕊𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕥
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@kpopsblackcreatorsociety​​​
@btscreaturescoven​
@btsfests​​​
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Side blog for fic reviews and recommendations @youremychaos​
Side blog for anime fics @animeischaos​​
Ao3 - SweetestofChaos
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hisunshiine · 10 months
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—college nights, diner fights | jjk
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pairing: waiter!jungkook x waitress!reader au/genre: diner au, e2l, angst, smut, fluff rating: M wc: 9,664 warnings: POV switches (obvious, tho) mentions of domestic abuse and alluded infidelity (parents not pairing), JK's mom has terrible boyfriends and his dad is a petty "Disney" dad, Reader's parents are better but not around often, mentions of Jungkook having to protect his mom from the bad boyfriends, mean teachers, enemiesssssss, triggering middle school memories can be brought up upon reading the banter of middle school JK and reader LOL but also not LOL, swearing, vulgar statements, forced proximity, secret mutual pining, a drunken physical altercation/assault at work (mild), mentions of blood, minor cuts/scrapes, kissing, tattoo tracing SMUT warnings: oral (f receiving), praise an: shoutout to my beta readers @colormepurplex2 @downbad4yoongi @mrsparkjimin18 @peachiilovesot7 for helping me get this thing done in time despite me being on vacation and dragging my feet! thank you all so much for the motivation, for brainstorming, and just all around positive feedback! summary: If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! You and Jungkook have been enemies for as long as you can remember—elementary school even—and when Seokjin hires him despite knowing this, you have to call a truce during working hours. When an incident at work leads Jungkook, and you, to put things into a different perspective, will the heated diner fights become a passionate college night? Or will it fizzle before it can start?
Bangtanstrology Writing Event hosted by ME of @bangtanwritershq
My Big 3 are: Sun (Member): Gemini- Jungkook, Moon (How They Met): Scorpio- Late Night Diner, Rising (Trope): Libra- Enemies to Lovers
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Part 1: Elementary School
Elementary school is supposed to be fun. For you, 11 years old and in the fifth grade, elementary school is perhaps the best time of your life so far. Your dad signed up for career day, and you are excited beyond measure for him to come in and meet with your class to talk about his job.
It’s rare that you get to spend time with your dad, as his job keeps him pretty busy. The fact that he was able to show up today was a miracle in and of itself, but he negotiated presenting first so that he could leave first to get to work. 
“Everyone, please welcome our first parent speaker, Mr. Cha.”
Your classmates applaud as your dad steps forward to the podium in the front center of the classroom and you beam from ear to ear. He looks all spiffy—hair styled well, suit pressed, and shoes shined. 
“Good morning, boys and girls, I am Mr. Cha, and I am here to speak to you about my career. To be honest, I have two jobs,” he pauses as the kids, including you, look at him in both awe and confusion, “I am the father to that little girl right there,” he points to you and you giggle. “That is a full time job all on its own, but for the other time spent working, I am a plastic surgeon.”
You can’t help the pride you feel from your classmates clapping as your dad shares. He talks about the schooling needed to get to his position, shares study tips for the transition to middle and high school, which—while still some time away—will be good to begin practicing even now. 
“You’re so handsome, Mr. Cha! Have you ever had any work done yourself?” one of the students asks during the question time.
“Ah, great question! I have tried some of the treatments that we offer at my clinic, because if I don’t believe in it, why should others have faith in me and the services I offer?” he explains. “I had a colleague of mine fix my deviated nose bridge, which I injured playing basketball in college, and I maintain my skin with various anti-aging treatments as well. It’s important to start taking care of your skin even at this age! Princess, come help me please.” Your dad gestures to you, and you rise from the chair, only a little embarrassed at him using your nickname. “Help me pass these out to your classmates.”
You begin walking around the room, placing the small cardstock printouts on each of your classmates’ desks as your dad continues speaking.
“These are coupons for my office. You can give these to a family member, or if your parents will allow you to come in, we offer a free consultation to check your skin, and a reduced rate for any skin care products or procedures for any of my princess’s classmates and their family.” He wraps up his presentation there, pulling you into him for a side hug as he smiles at your classmates and the other parents waiting in the wings to present. “Thank you for letting me present, I’ve got to run because I have a rhinoplasty scheduled today, and I need to prepare, but I had a lot of fun talking with you all today!” As your dad kisses your forehead, he whispers a quick goodbye as he leaves your classroom. You’ve never felt so proud.
🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️
“Okay, everyone, let’s line up for P.E.,” Ms. Kim directs, and you jump in line with your peers to walk down to the field. Your classroom teacher disappears for his break as Ms. Kim takes over, and thus ensues a battle between your class as you play ‘Capture the Flag’. 
“The rules are simple,” Ms. Kim explains, “a ball is placed on each side of the field in that box.” She points at the four cones creating a safe zone with a kickball inside of it. “Once the game begins, players have to cross the midline into ‘enemy’ territory to try and capture the ball and bring it back to their side. The other team has to stop you from stealing the ball by pulling the flags to remove your waistband—no tackling! Understand?”
“Yes, Ms. Kim!” 
“Good. If your belt is pulled off, you stand off to the side at the cone here, okay? That’s the jail. To rescue your teammates from jail, you have to high five them. You must return to your side before attempting to go after the ball again. Once a player enters the box, they are safe, but they cannot stay in there forever…” 
You tune out Ms. Kim because you already know how to play, and instead busy yourself with wrapping the tan belt around your waist, adjusting the position of the three blue flags hanging from it. The red team moves to their side of the midline, and you stretch your legs idly as you wait for the teacher to blow her whistle. 
🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️
Huffing, you pout as you walk to the jail cone, re-attaching the waistband that your classmate pulled off. He’s put you in jail several times now, almost as if he’s targeting only you during the game. It’s getting a little irritating, since Jeon Jungkook is the fastest boy in the fifth grade, but he’s spending all of his time chasing you instead of helping his team win. Even now, he’s guarding the jail so your best friend can’t come to save you again.
“Dang, JK, you pulled her flag again?” Kim Taehyung snickers loudly as he jogs over to where you’re held captive.
“Can’t let the princess get everything, now can we?” he taunts, a sarcastic tone to his words.
Kim Taehyung, unable to whisper to save his life, leans into Jungkook and asks, “Do you think her dad worked on her face? No way she’s that pretty on her own.”
Your feelings are split between irritated and pleased at the backhanded compliment. 
“She’s not that pretty, it looks more like her dad messed up her face, ‘cause she’s so ugly,” Jungkook counters, and it’s hard to decipher if his cheeks are red from playing or from talking about your looks.
“But, you said last week that she was—”
Ms. Kim’s whistle blows to end the game, and you miss the end of Taehyung’s statement. Walking away from the two fools, you barely get a foot outside of the jail zone when a sharp tug at your waist stops you in your tracks. You look down and see your belt missing, and hear a soft thud a few moments later as it hits the grass in the opposite direction several yards away.
Taehyung is laughing, his large boxy grin behind his hand as Jungkook smirks at you. 
“You lost.”
The two then take off towards where your teacher is collecting the game belts, leaving you to backtrack to get yours.
“What took you so long? Everyone else has already returned to the building. Taking your time  to head back to class is not good sportsmanship.”
“But, Jungkook—”
“No excuses. Hurry up and get inside.”
Jogging back to the building, you get another scolding when you reach the classroom, with your teacher telling you that just because your dad is a surgeon and came for Career Day does not mean you get to behave this way. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Jungkook eats up every second of the scolding, seeming to enjoy the way you wilt as it continues. As you walk back to your seat, you don’t see Jungkook stick out his foot, and you trip loudly as the desks and chairs nearest you clatter and clang as you try to regain your footing.
As the boys snicker at your forced clumsiness, you vow to yourself that Jeon Jungkook is the worst person to exist, and you will hate him for as long as you live. 
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Part 2: Middle School
Jungkook’s had a hard week. Chuseok just ended, and he had to spend it with his dad’s family instead of with his mom this year, per their divorce agreement. He’s partially thankful because it allowed him a moment to rest. His hypervigilance with his mom’s new boyfriend is tiring, and his grades are suffering for it. But Jungkook is tired of these men sniffing around for a piece of the ‘supposed’ alimony his mom receives from his dad, because everyone was aware when the CEO of Jeon Industries divorced his wife and married his secretary. Jungkook begged to switch schools, but his parents refused, despite it being reported on several news outlets for a month in sixth grade. 
Eighth grade hasn’t been so bad for him though, no one talks about the divorce anymore, and Jungkook is able to be just Jungkook, known for his athletic abilities and gaming. He was able to guilt his dad into a new gaming computer, since he forgot to take him back to school shopping, and Jungkook is able to help his mom pay the bills each month with the earnings he makes betting on Overwatch. 
So when he returns back home, tired of hearing tales and seeing pictures of the trip to Cancun with the new baby that conveniently interrupted the planned shopping trip, to see his bed holding a Nike box with the shoes Jungkook begged his mom to get at the start of the year, he’s elated. He erupts into shouts and whoops of excitement, running to the kitchen to hug his mom.
“Ouch!” she can’t hide the wince as Jungkook pulls back from the embrace.
“I didn’t even squeeze you that tightly, Mom. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing, you know how clumsy I am, I ran into the dining room table the other night—”
Jungkook doesn’t even think as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, barely lifting it to see an ugly burgundy bruise spreading across her abdomen.
“Mom! Did he do this to you?” Jungkook demands, fury building in his body. 
“N-no, honey, you know how I c-can be,” she stutters through the lie, but they both know the truth. 
“Mom, if he did this because of money, just return the shoes, it’s fine.”
“No. I bought those for you. You deserve them.” His mom is resolute, turning away and adjusting her shirt as she goes back to cooking dinner. “Plus, we broke up. He won’t be back.”
Up in his room, Jungkook readies the shoes for school tomorrow. He has a few nice things, his dad is a CEO after all, but after the divorce, Jungkook chose his mom, and his dad took it personally. His dad didn’t understand, but the choice was clear to Jungkook. His dad had a new wife, but his mom had no one. Jungkook couldn't leave her too. But his dad became spiteful after that, and so Jungkook can’t take most things his dad buys him to his mom’s house, including certain clothes and shoes. 
It’s why he’s so upset about his dad missing back-to-school shopping, because those were usually the only things he was allowed to take to his mom’s, but this year he has nothing new. Not until his mom bought him the Nike Dunks he’s been coveting. Jungkook is happy, proud of his mom for choosing him over the newest boyfriend, and lying in bed, he finally feels like maybe his life isn’t so bad. He hears a knock at the door, and his mom’s tired feet shuffling to answer it.
“Please, Jongyeon-ah, I promise, it won’t happen again.” 
Jungkook rolls over, grabbing his headphones to drown out the sounds of the pleading, good for nothing, weaseling himself back into his mom’s life.
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 “Yo, Jungkook, those dunks are fly!”
Jungkook props his shoes up on the desk next to his in class, showing off the brand-new kicks to Taehyung.
“Yeah, they're limited edition.” Jungkook knows his response is a little douchebag-esque, but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted these shoes for the longest time, and after all of the bullshit he dealt with during Chuseok and now waking up to see that greasy slimeball his mom said she was done with shirtless at the table for breakfast, he just wants to pretend for once that his life is perfect. 
“Take your crusty shoes off my desk,” you scoff. Jungkook ignores you for a few seconds, leaving his feet where he has them propped on your desk. He hates that you called his shoes crusty, knowing that they’re not. They don’t even have a speck of dirt on them! He made sure of that upon his arrival, being overly cautious with each step and wiping away any blemish he perceived to be there.
“Awe, is the princess jealous she doesn’t have the limited edition dunks?” Jungkook can’t pinpoint when this rivalry started, he just knows that for as long as he can remember, the two of you have been enemies. 
“There’s a reason the supply is limited. It’s because they’re ugly and they stopped making them once they realized someone would have to be an idiot to wear them. You sitting here with them just proves this point.” You push his crossed feet off your desk and he lets you, but Jungkook holds you in his glare.
“One day you’ll stop being a hater, drowning in all that Haterade you’ve been drinking,” Jungkook makes a play on words, and his friends ‘ooooh’ and high five at his middle school burn.
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At lunch, Jungkook precariously steps between the seats to avoid damaging his shoes. His shins are starting to hurt from how he’s walking to avoid creasing his sneakers, but it’s worth the pain to him. He’s successfully avoided getting any food on his shoes from the sloppy eaters, and as he makes the last stretch to the door, a loud yell catches him off guard.
“Watch it!”
Nayeon, one of your lackeys, warns everyone as she’s bumped by you and her red sports drink goes flying. Jungkook is stuck between tables, backpacks cluttering the aisle and Nayeon’s body flailing taking up all of the space. It all happens in seconds—a hip check, a flying drink, and the contents now strewn across the floor and Jungkook’s new sneakers and laces now stained a bright red, dripping across the leather and fabric of his brand new, limited edition Nike Dunks. 
“Oh my god, Nayeon, you are so clumsy!”
Jungkook gawps at you, unbelieving, as your annoying voice fills the silence that took over the room only moments before.
“So sorry, Jungkook. Nayeon bumped into me and then she spilled her haterade—I mean Gatorade—all over your new shoes! I hope those weren’t hard to get or anything! I’m sure your CEO daddy can get you a new pair.”
Jungkook storms from the room, seething at your audacity. If you had any idea about his life, would you treat him this way? He wishes you could walk a day in his shoes, maybe you would realize that life outside your perfect, princess bubble is not always sweet, and would think twice before being a bitch to him, but it’s too late for him to change his view of you. You are the devil’s spawn and Jungkook has never hated someone as much as he hates you.
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Part 3: High School
Getting into BTS-U should be easy for you, what with your dad being an alumnus, but you don’t want to rely on nepotism. You’ve been working your ass off for good grades all four years of high school, and the final determination of your competency is about to start. Only one student can represent your high school as the Youth of the Year, winning prestige and honor by being granted early admission into any four-year university in the country of their choice without needing CSAT scores. 
The last of the trials, the oral interview, is scheduled for today and as you sit outside the room in the creaky, overly hard chair, your heart pounds. Of course, the final two students competing for this merit would be the two students who despise each other the most in the school, making the competition that much more important to you. 
You cannot lose to fucking Jeon Jungkook.
“We’re ready for you!”
The chipper voice startles you from your thoughts as you steel yourself to go into the final challenge. 
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“Thank you all for your participation in the Youth of the Year program. As you know, the contenders were all very high achieving and will have plenty of options available to you for your future. Do not let not being named deter you from the future awaiting you all. Now, today, we interviewed the two finalists from this wonderful school, and while both were outstanding, one student really opened up and shared a vulnerable side to him that inspired us. He has already begun an incredible journey in his young life, showcasing a will to succeed. Jeon Jungkook, please stand.”
The crowd in the auditorium bursts into applause as you burst into tears. The one good thing about this ceremony is that the finalists do not sit on stage, so in the chaos and celebration, you are able to sneak away to the bathroom. Jeon Jungkook looked so shocked to have been chosen, but you knew that he couldn’t actually be shocked. His mom stood up with him, hugging him with pride, and your parents couldn’t even be bothered to show up for such an important moment. 
You tell yourself it’s not a big deal, that you have done well and will most likely have the same options for college as Jungkook does, but being a Youth of the Year finalist is not the same as being the Youth of the Year. What really hurts you the most is that if the roles were switched, Jungkook’s mom would be there to hug him and tell him he did great and fought hard. If you had been chosen, you still would’ve been alone, but at least the loneliness wouldn’t have hurt as much. 
The judges who interviewed you must think you don’t need the help, that you have everything you could ever want, so why would they choose the spoiled little rich girl? Why would they choose the girl who eats dinner with the maids, who read bedtime stories to herself growing up, the girl who has everything—everything except a family that loves her more than their careers and supports her unfailingly?
Facing the mirror, you reach for your purse and pull out the small makeup pouch so that you can erase any evidence of the sadness you feel today, brimming with the unshed tears of yesterday, and prepare your battle face to go back out there and be cordial as the runner up. Another battle you’ll face alone. 
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Part 4: College at BTS-U
“Welcome to Jin’s Diner, have a seat wherever you’d—what the fuck are you doing here?”
The chiming of the door opening caught your ear, so you’d turned to greet the newest customer, except instead of an overly tired trucker or a group of post-clubbing college students, you’re faced with one Jeon Jungkook.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asks, eyebrow pitched and smirk full of snark.
“No, I kiss your father with this mouth. Now get out.” You go back to wiping down the counters, ignoring the stare of your arch-nemesis as you finish cleaning.
“Now, now, Baby Cakes, let your new coworker into the diner so you can finally get the help you've been asking for.”
You turn to the owner’s son, Kim Seokjin, mouth gaping open in confusion. “Coworker? I thought you read through the notes I made on all of the applicants?”
“Yes, I did, and they were very helpful. He’ll be working nights with you, so show him to the back while I grab a lock for his locker and a uniform.”
“Sir—”
“Now, Cakes.”
Seokjin disappears into the hallway towards his office, and you turn back to Jungkook, who’s standing smugly with his arms crossed watching you.
“Ugh, keep up, small fry.” 
Jungkook’s black boots squeak along the freshly mopped floor as he hustles to catch up with you. The doorway behind the counter opens into the kitchen, where the two line cooks, Hoseok and Yoongi, work diligently. Hoseok is sitting next to the recently delivered products with a clipboard in hand as he counts the items, while Yoongi is wiping down his area before the rush begins. You clear your throat loudly to gather their attention.
“We have a new waiter, his name is Jeon Jungkook, but he shall go by Small Fry, I think.” The smile on your face is devilish, and the two men snicker as they take in the newbie rushing in behind you.
“Wait, why am I ‘Small Fry’?” he asks, only a little out of breath from having to round the counter and catch up to you.
“Because everyone who works here gets called a food nickname, helps with the creeps, especially on nights.”
“I’m Suga,” Yoongi greets, “and this here is Hobi-Honey, but we just call him Hobi for short.”
“And I’m Baby Cakes, as you heard bossman say.”
“What’s your real name again, Small Fry?” Yoongi asks, his platinum hair shining in the fluorescent kitchen lights.
“It’s Jungkook,” he answers, emphasizing his name as he glares at you.
“Hmm, Baby Cakes, I think he might be better suited to Cooky…”
“Isn’t that too close to his name?” you argue, hoping to keep Small Fry, but when you see Hobi shake his head, you know you’ve lost.
“Fine, Cooky it is then! Next new hire will be called Small Fry no matter what!” you concede, waving Jungkook to follow you towards the back of the kitchen.
He trails you quietly as you push a swinging wooden door with a circular window in it and lead him into the employee lounge. Seokjin is whistling to himself as you enter, twirling a metal lock around his finger. You look around the room, surprised at how quickly he had everything ready.
“Great, you met Suga and Hobi then?” he asks, nodding at the door you just entered.
“Yes, I figured it would be best to do that first on the way here.”
“So, Jungkook—”
“He’s Cooky,” you interrupt, but Seokjin just shakes your rudeness off.
“—Cooky, this here’s the lounge. The door you just entered is used while you’re on shift for breaks and such. When you arrive for your shift and leave for the night, it should always be through the door behind me.” He gestures to a purple-handled door. “To the left are the employee cubbies, and to the right, we have the laundry station, small kitchenette, and door to the staff bathroom.” 
You nod at the TV mounted on the wall next to the swinging door. “The remote always stays on this table,” you tap the main table in the room that seats six, “and we typically keep the TV on ESPN, MTV, or my personal favorite, HGTV.”
“Thank you, Cakes. Now, your Jin’s Diner gear stays here, we’ll wash it for you after each shift you work.” Seokjin points to a stacked washer and dryer in the corner. “Just throw it in the wash after your shift each night. We’ll put it back in your cubby for you once dry.”
Jungkook nods, but he looks a bit overwhelmed from all of the information. You take the lead and sit down first hoping he’ll follow you. You know Seokjin talks fast and moves through the employee information even faster, and despite not liking Jeon Jungkook, you need the help on your shift since Mochi quit to focus on his last semester.
You grab a permanent marker and white label from the center of the table, tossing it across to Jungkook with a little more force than necessary.
“We each have a cubby, with a small locker inside. Use this to write your name and then claim an empty spot, and you can also write your name on the tags of your uniform.”
Seokjin grabs plastic-wrapped clothing articles from the cabinet next to the laundry station and approaches the table, too, tossing down the new clothing. 
“Your gear. Shirt, apron, and a ballcap. If you want a visor instead, let me know. Black, khaki, or blue jeans, black non-slip shoes, keep the blingy jewelry at home.”
“Dammit, I was planning to choke him with his chain after the first shift.”
Seokjin levels his gaze at you, and you know you’re pushing your limits with him. 
“I’ll have you follow Baby Cakes around to learn the drill for taking orders, but mostly you’ll be bussing tables tonight. I’ll work on the final processing of your paperwork in the meantime. Cakes, come with me while he changes.”
You follow Seokjin out of the lounge and back towards the office. He opens the door and steps back to allow you to enter first, shutting the door behind him as he follows you into the room.
“You need to tone it down. I know you said that you and he have some bad blood, but we need the help and he’s the best applicant we have.”
“It’s deeper than that, Jinnie, he’s literally been tormenting me since elementary school. We work with heavy-duty machinery and cutlery. You might come in one morning to find that one of us has stabbed the other to death.” You push out your bottom lip and give him your best, roundest, watery puppy eyes. “Is that what you really want?”
“What I want is to have a fully staffed evening shift so that my best girl can stop having bags under her eyes and complaining about her feet hurting every shift.” Seokjin smiles teasingly at you. “Plus, you need a good annual review to get a raise, and training new employees looks good to the owner.”
“Your dad is the owner! You can just tell him to give me a raise!”
“I could…but this is so much more fun. Who knows, he’s kinda hot…maybe you find out that the reason he’s picked on you your whole life is because he has a crush on you.”
“That fallacy is just a way for the patriarchy to continue to push abuse acceptance and the ‘boys will be boys’ agenda.” You cross your arms, but overall you know Seokjin is right. You’ve always prided yourself on being able to adapt well to situations, put a fake smile on when you need to deal with rude customers or your parents missing another monumental event in your life. “But fine. At work, it’ll be a ceasefire. That’s about all I can promise you.”
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“I thought you said there would be a ceasefire!” Seokjin yells at you from where you sit in his office. Jungkook is seated next to you, slouching in the chair with his head turned away towards the wall. You can see his jaw clenching every few seconds as Seokjin continues berating you. “Instead, I got a call from a family friend that you two were so busy yelling at each other for not doing your jobs that you effectively stopped doing your job!” 
You huff as you roll your eyes, turning away from Jungkook’s severely hot—no—aggravating jawline, (where did that thought even come from?) to respond to Seokjin.
“That’s not even what happened last night! This idiot decided to fuck with the seating and of course, since the big game is tomorrow, we had a lot of people stop in and it was noisy. I was trying to seat the guests who were being louder and rowdier on one side so that our regulars,” you glare at Jungkook, who’s still refusing to look at either you or Seokjin, “could dine in peace, but when I ran to the back to restock the napkins for the bar top, he seated people himself. He’s not the host. He’s still a newbie! It’s been, what? Three, four months?”
“...Four,” Jungkook mumbles, but you ignore it.
“And so then poor Mrs. Hana ended up dealing with the hooligans who disrupted her meal, and yes, it was when I was trying to explain to him how seating works—”
“I know how seating works, it’s not rocket science!”
“So then why would you mess with the flow of the diner and seat them there?!”
“Because you,” Jungkook finally breaks the stoic act and turns to face you abruptly, so much so you almost visibly jump, “kept seating the large groups in your sections, which meant that you were giving yourself the better tips and leaving me with the geriatrics who barely leave anything!”
“Are you serious? You think I was trying to take tips from you? I hate dealing with the sports crowd! I would have gladly traded with you if you had said something to me, but you were too busy ignoring me when I was trying to talk to you about dividing up the floor—”
“—you talk to me like I’m a child, so of course I was ignoring you, you dolt—”
“—really piss me off, you think I would stoop so low, probably because it’s what you would do—”
“Shut up, both of you!” Seokjin’s eyes have a hardness to them you are not used to seeing. He’s usually laid back, but the stress lines on his face speak to an underlying tension you aren’t aware of. “Look,” he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his eyes briefly, “this can’t happen again. Mrs. Hana could’ve broken her hip slipping on the spilled soda, and her son is debating suing us. My dad is obviously handling this situation, but that means your jobs are on the table. If her son demands it in exchange to avoid a lawsuit, I can’t stop it.”
It settles on you at that moment, how severe this is. You know that the little, old lady regular slipped and fell, but both you and Jungkook rushed over to help her up, comping her meal and walking her outside to sit quietly and assess how she was feeling while waiting for her son to arrive. Not only that, but he didn’t seem mad when he picked her up—just worried about if she was in pain and if she needed to go see a doctor. Apparently, after the shock wore off, his anger set in.
“I’m sorry, Seokjin. It won’t happen again.”
“Get to your shift, I’m sure Nam—I mean Porkchop—is ready to go. Remember, Suga will be late today, the championship game is tonight. So no more ignoring the hooligans and Cooky,” Seokjin gives his leveled glare to Jungkook this time, “Baby Cakes is in charge. I know you’re eager to prove yourself, and you’ve done well so far, but she’s worked the aftermath of championship games before.”
Jungkook stares back at Seokjin, a low humming tension filling the room before he answers with a “Yes, sir.” 
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The diner is louder than Jungkook’s ever heard before as he goes around clearing tables now that the game is over. His coworker, Yoongi, did amazing from what he saw on the screen. BTS-U wore their white home jerseys with purple and black lettering, so it was easy to see when number 3 hit the game-winning three-pointer. 
Now, as the same white jersey is stepping into the diner, all of the fans cheer and bang their cups and silverware to congratulate the MBC Cup National University Basketball Championship’s MVP for the win tonight. 
Jungkook looks across the dining area, where he sees you kneeling on the countertop clapping your hands above your head. The uniform dress that you chose for tonight has risen higher up your thigh than normal—probably from the way you climbed up onto the counter—giving Jungkook a pretty good view of the skin leading up to what he’s sure are lace panties. He’s walked in on you changing one too many times to not know your preference. 
He can’t look away from you; something about the sheer energy radiating off of you is magnetic, as if you’re lit from within, and before he knows it, he’s moving closer to you. Jungkook knows he can’t stand you personally, but physically? He’ll never admit this aloud—not since Taehyung almost told you the truth back in elementary school— but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 
He doesn’t have much time to ponder your looks as you bring two fingers to your lips and let out a loud wolf whistle, setting you off balance with the action. Luckily he’s already been pulled into your orbit, because he catches you with two strong hands on your waist before you can fall off the counter.
“Thanks, Cooky!” you say, eyes alight and voice pleasant, as if you’ve forgotten who Jungkook is to you, and who you are to him. 
“No problem, Baby Cakes.” Jungkook helps you climb down, and when you bend forward to place your palms on the counter to dismount, he sees his hypothesis on your panties is right. His eyes remain on your ass as you extend a leg to the floor, and despite the trouble the two of you got into before your shift, Jungkook can’t seem to care to remember why he shouldn’t be enjoying the view.
“Congrats, Suga!” Jungkook watches as you launch yourself into Yoongi’s arms, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.
“Thanks, Cakes, that last shot was for you.” He winks, and Jungkook doesn’t understand why he’s feeling so affected, but he wants to blame it on those panties you unknowingly flashed for the irritation he feels toward his friend for flirting with you. She’s your enemy, Kook, get it the fuck together.
Jungkook stalks away, grabbing his bussing bin and rag so he can clean up the table of the group in line to pay.
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“Fuck you and your sorry-ass school!” 
Jungkook turns his head to see you standing feet shoulder-width apart with your arms crossed, looking so much like the evil bitch he’s come to know. Only this time, it’s directed towards an EXO-U fan, by the looks of the silver and black shirt he’s sporting.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
You command the space well, and had the man been sober, he probably would have listened to you when you gave him the polite option to leave on his own two feet. As luck would have it, the man grew more belligerent with each passing moment, causing Jungkook to run and grab Yoongi from the back to help handle the situation. Jungkook doesn’t like what he’s hearing when he returns to the front.
“You dumb cunt, we don’t have to leave! Come over here, baby, suck my cock like you suck their players, bet that’s why they won, huh? Saw you all over their star player earlier, let me get a piece, bitch.”
Jungkook wants to lunge at the man, but Yoongi beats him to the table, effortlessly grabbing the man by his arm and neck to yank him from his booth seat.
Jungkook gets to his other side, helping the man walk towards the double glass doors as Yoongi mutters menacingly at the patron.
“Best not show your face around here again, if you know what’s good for you. Find another place to eat, and we won’t beat your ass.”
Yoongi lets go of the man once they clear the sidewalk into the parking lot, the man’s friends stumble out behind, but Jungkook shoves the man hard, and he falls to the ground. He feels no remorse for the man; he reminds him too much of the creeps his mom dealt with: stench of alcohol on their breath that grew with each vulgar word that rolled out of their mouths, animosity leeching from their greasy skin—Jungkook needs to wash his hands and splash his face. 
Fleeing inside, he bypasses you cleaning up the mess the rowdy table left behind, unable to hear the words you say clearly enough to decipher them. He knows that it’s almost time to close up and he has a few tasks to do to help speed up the process, but he’ll get to them in a minute. He just needs a minute to shake off this feeling, and then he’ll be okay to do the final cleaning for the evening, and find out what you said.
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You’ve always hated dealing with the championship game guests, but always loved being with the crowd because of the thrill and your love for the game. The shift wasn’t terrible work-wise, as Jungkook really pulled his weight throughout the shift, allowing you to be in charge as the hostess and main waitress, filling in where you needed and bussing tables as the guests rotated through the double doors.
And you can’t lie, when you almost lost your balance on the counter, it was kind of hot that he was there to catch you, and help you down safely. With his jawline that can cut glass and his warm hands sitting large on your hips, you were a little sad to have them drop away, but you hid your disappointment in congratulating Suga and then moved on with the shift.
Of course, such a perfectly good shift had to end with a douchebag. To your surprise, when you turn to look to Jungkook for help, he’s already approaching with Suga in tow. And damn your worst enemy if he doesn’t do the second hottest thing of the night, vanquishing the drunkard with the sailor’s mouth from your sight, his foul friends trailing behind. 
You clear off the table, the half-eaten food discarded in the trash and you realize that it needs to be taken out now before the last of the tables are done. Jungkook speed walks past you, so you call out to him, “Cooky, take the trash out, please!”
You finish sweeping under the table, then wipe down the booth’s table as Suga also returns inside, pausing to check on you.
“Everything good, Cakes?”
You nod, placing a hand on your hip as you reflect on the incident. “Yeah, he was a real fuck boy, but you and Cooky saved me just in time.”
“Always…I’m surprised Cooky was so worked up when he called me from the kitchen. Usually you two are at each other’s throats, I would’ve thought he’d enjoy seeing you deal with a rude customer.”
“Well, we did get yelled at earlier by Jin for last night, so we promised to work together and drop whatever rivalry we have during working hours. So maybe that’s it.”
“Mmm…maybe. Well, let me go help Hobi, this last wave will keep us later if I don’t.” Yoongi takes a few steps to round the counter, then calls back out to you, “The trash is about to overflow, Cakes!”
Frowning, you notice that Jungkook has yet to return to take out the trash. Glancing around the room, you see most of the tables are in stages of eating or waiting for their food. They all seem well and distracted with clips from the post-game coverage, so you decide to take out the trash yourself. Maybe the truce between you and Jungkook isn’t as intact as you think. 
Grumbling to yourself, you tie off the bag and lift it from the bin, foot angled to keep the wheels from sliding across the floor from the tug. You eye the replacement black bag, but decide to put it in once you return from the dumpster. 
You hate taking out the trash; you love feminism but some tasks are just made for men. You refuse to use the loud trolley with the janky wheel, so you carry the bag gingerly, resting it down every few steps as you make your way across the sparsely lit back parking lot.
“Well, if it isn’t the bitch who didn’t let me finish my meal.”
You snap your head around, eyes roving for the source of the raspy words, finally landing on the douchebag discharged from the diner only 10 minutes ago.
“We didn’t charge you for it, so I suggest you leave before this turns into a real problem.” You keep your eyes on him, watching as he shifts around on his feet, inching closer to you. You hold your stance, refusing to look weak in case he decides you’d make a good target.
“Maybe if you come suck me off like a good girl, I won’t leave a bad review online about how much of a cunt you’re being. Matter of fact, throw in some pussy, let me fuck you properly and I bet all that attitude will drop. You just need someone to tame you.”
The man lunges for your left arm, his meaty fist closing around your wrist and you pull back to break the contact but he’s strong. You yell out, stumbling back away from the trash bag and he follows, heavy footfalls adding to the sounds of the evening. 
“Let go, you freak!”
You jolt your arm, wrenching it in as many directions as you can to try and relax his grip but he pulls you closer to him until you can smell the ethanol on his breath as he places his other hand forcefully on your shoulder. 
“I said I wanted you on your knees, stupid bitch,” he utters, and reflexively you punch him in his dick. He groans and releases you, hunching over in pain. You make out a figure stepping through the service door, and you call out for help. Attempting to step around the man, you only make it a few steps before you feel the weight of the man bearing down on you again.
“You stupid bitch!”
You try to run, but the man has the back of your dress in his grip so instead, your shoes scrape the asphalt in the same place repeatedly. A loud thwack of flesh on flesh sounds right before you’re released, dropping the short distance to the concrete. Your palms and knees feel the sting of the gravel but the relief of being out of the man’s hold overpowers any lingering pain as you scramble to your feet. 
Behind you, Jungkook is pummeling the man in the face, and you pause for a moment in shock before you rush back to him, grabbing his bicep to stop him from swinging again.
“Cooky, stop, I’m okay! Jungkook!”
He freezes, turning to look at you as if to see if your statement is true, and seeing that you’re serious, he appears to deflate a bit, no longer an attacking watchdog but a protective knight, making sure his charge is unscathed.
“Let’s go.” He gestures for your hand and you place yours in his, letting him guide you away from the groaning sack of trash and the garbage bag on the ground.
The fluorescent lights of the break room are blinding after the darkness of outside. Vaguely you hear Jungkook yelling at the others working, followed by the clattering of kitchen items, but you’re so out of sorts you don’t even realize that Jungkook has maneuvered you into a chair and is gently checking your knees, palms, and arms. He brushes off the remaining dirt from your skin.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
His voice sounds pained, and this pulls you from your thoughts and back to the present with him. 
“Um, I don’t think so.”
“Where all did he touch you? It might not hurt now, but once the adrenaline dies off, you might feel it.”
“Um, my arm, my shoulder, I can’t…I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, let me check your neck…he grabbed your dress and pulled you, so I wanna make sure it won’t bruise.”
He takes your face in his hands delicately, tilting your head to expose your neck to his view. The proximity has your head spinning, his cologne enveloping you as he leans closer, a hand leaving your cheek to allow a finger to trail across your neckline. You know he’s just checking to make sure that there’s no lingering marks, but you don’t think that the after effects of tonight will be anything anyone can see. He grabs a glass of water for you, and you sit quietly while he tends to the minor cuts on your palms from the jagged gravel in the parking lot. 
Time seems to pass as you’re deep in thought, but you’re not sure how much until Seokjin appears, his purple and white painted face replacing the doe eyes and clenched jaw. He looks frazzled, as if he just left an after-party for the championship and was pulled into work. You realize after a moment that that’s actually what happened, and chuckle at yourself. He says your real name, pulling you out of your laughter.
“I’m so sorry this happened, luckily Jungkook was there. I don’t know what I would've done if something happened to you.” Seokjin pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, squeezing him tighter as the feeling of being held feels good. He pulls away sooner than you like, but he continues talking to you about what’s been going on since you’ve been sitting in the employee lounge.
“Look, don’t worry about staying and cleaning up tonight, okay? We’ve got everything under control. Hobi called the cops and Yoongi made sure the guy didn’t flee before they came. He’s in their custody now.”
“What about Jungkook?” you ask, uncharacteristically using his given name.
“He’s giving his statement to the police now. They’ll want to talk to you too, but I can put it off for tonight if you need,” Seokjin offers kindly, but you want to get it over with.
“It’s okay, I’ll speak to them now.”
“If you’re sure. I’ll grab one of the detectives now and they can take your statement, and then I’m sending you home. Jungkook will drive you, okay? You’re still a bit shaky.”
You look down at your hands, seeing the tremble Seokjin is referencing and nod. There’s no use in putting up a fight. All of the men you work with have now proven that you’re safe with them. Seokjin walks over to the door, popping his head out to call for an officer, and he paces quietly as you recount what happened, starting with the attacker growing belligerent in the dining area. Once finished, Seokjin grabs Jungkook from where he’s talking with Yoongi outside the door, ushering him to take your belongings and get you home.
You follow along, compliant, waving goodbye to the others as Jungkook pulls off into the main road back towards campus.
“You live by BTS-U, right?”
“Yeah, at Omelas, next to the train tracks.”
Neither of you speak again until he parks, turning off the engine to his jeep.
“Here, let me help you.” Jungkook grabs your backpack and climbs out of the SUV, coming around to the passenger side door to open it for you. You jump out and lead the way to your first -floor apartment. Unlocking the door, you flip on the lights as you toe off your non-slip work shoes.
“My roommate is out of town visiting her parents this weekend.”
Dumping your purse onto the kitchen counter, you walk further into your home, Jungkook trailing you slowly. He kicks off his shoes, socks shuffling quietly along the carpet as he enters your living room after closing and securing the front door lock. He places your backpack on the couch, and the two of you stand there awkwardly.
“Um, do you want some water or something? I have juice, milk, beer…” you trail off, uncertain.
“Water is fine, thanks.”
You grab a glass from the cupboard, filling it with ice water to return the favor from earlier as you bolster your courage to thank him. You hand him the glass and before you can think too hard, you just start speaking.
“Jungkook, I just wanted to thank you, for coming out there and, you know, saving me. I know we don’t get along much, but you really came through and I appreciate it.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen, blinking up at you from where he’s sitting on your couch. He takes a long sip from the glass, and he seems uncertain if he wants to speak but does so anyway.
“It was nothing, really.”
“Why, um, why did you help me, I mean—I’m just saying, oh this is coming out wrong—”
“Look, I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with creeps like him. I’ve had to do it plenty for my mom, and I just don’t like to see anyone getting hurt, not even my arch nemesis.” Jungkook tries to joke it off at the end, but his tone reveals so much more to you about what he’s not saying.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was like that for you back in high school.” You sit down next to him, closer than you normally would with your backpack taking up part of the seat, but you don’t mind it. You feel safer being closer to him.
“I mean, why would you know?” he asks, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip. “You have a perfect family, I’m sure nothing like this happened on the weekly at your place.”
“No, but like, my perfect family isn’t what everyone thinks it is, either. My parents didn’t pay attention to me, always busy working and what not. Honestly career day, back in like fifth grade was the only time one of my parents made it to something, and even then, it was so my dad could advertise his business. I felt so sheltered growing up, like I had no life skills. It’s why I work at the diner.”
Jungkook digests your words, understanding blooming through his chest. 
“I get that. It’s funny, I remember that day so well, I was so jealous of you, because your dad showed up for you. I guess our dads are the same though…I think if I had grown up with my parents still together, I would’ve felt like you do. My dad kind of left me behind when he remarried, you know? In a way, that made me less sheltered, because when I was with my mom, I had to grow up fast. I couldn’t always have the nicest things because she couldn’t always afford them.”
“I didn’t realize that you had to split time between them. One of my friends, Jimin? He told me about how your dad wouldn’t let you take things back and forth between houses.”
“Why did he do that?” Jungkook looks a little scandalized, and you’re sure it’s because Jimin is one of his best friends. He’s the one who recommended that he apply to Jin’s Diner in the first place, and how you knew to warn Jin to not hire Jungkook, not that it worked. “I didn’t know you were close with Jimin!”
“We used to work together…you actually replaced him. It’s why we were hiring in the first place. But, he told me that because he was trying to get me to ease up on you one day. I was complaining about something and he was trying to make you more human, I guess.”
Jungkook just nods. You know he probably realizes there’s no reason to be mad, it was all in the past and Jimin was coming from a good place when he revealed that.
“Well, it’s true. My dad is kind of the worst. My mom saved up to get me some Dunks back in middle school because my dad couldn’t be bothered to take me back to school shopping. As if I didn’t grow a foot and 3 shoe sizes.”
“Oh fuck, you know, I’m sorry for making Nayeon spill her drink on your shoes. That was really evil of me.”
“We were like 13? 14? All middle school girls are evil.” Jungkook chuckles. You’re relieved at how gracious he’s being, but a little annoyed. You turn to him to say as much, but he continues to speak. “Honestly, I don’t even know why we went toe to toe like that. We probably would’ve been best friends if we had combined our smarts. You were really great during the Youth of the Year competition. I’m sorry that you didn’t win, I think you deserved to.”
Jungkook is looking back at you now, with his pretty doe eyes, sitting so close to you. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, instead focusing on his star-filled eyes and the way they’re staring into your own. His arm moves slowly, lifting to bring his hand to your face, curling a tendril of hair behind your ear.
“It’s getting pretty late now, I should get home,” he starts, but his eyes speak volumes and it doesn’t seem like he wants to leave just yet. “But there’s still one more thing I need to apologize for.”
Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to what incident it could be when his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, not too forceful but not shy either—just the right amount to let you know this isn’t a mistake. It takes you a few seconds to respond, but when you sense Jungkook about to move away you pull him in closer, keeping his lips where you can access them. It’s not enough though, so throwing caution to the wind, you straddle him as your tongue swipes for entry, pushing him further into the couch as you lean into his fit body. He groans at your boldness, large hands planted firmly on your ass as the kiss deepens. You feel dangerously high, lacking oxygen, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. He’s intoxicating.
His fingers tighten imperceptibly, and you know he, too, is at the end of his air, so you break apart, chest heaving as you stare at his lips, red and plump from the kiss. 
“That was your…apology for? Or you were…apologizing for…kissing me?” you pant, trying to catch your breath.
“Both?” he says with a cute, bunny-like smile, “one, for hating you all these years, and two, for kissing you out of the blue.”
“And if I want you to apologize to me more?” you half-question, half-goad, and Jungkook gives the right answer, leaning into you once more so he can kiss you hard, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away.
“That’s something I can do.” Jungkook uses his strength to flip you onto your back on the couch, knocking your backpack out of the way and onto the floor. “Is this okay?” He searches your eyes for your consent to his hands on your thighs, fingertips skimming the hem of your dress. 
You nod, and he trails them higher until he’s grasping the band of your panties and sliding them down without haste. You enjoy the commanding presence he takes on, unlike the people you deal with on a daily at work, indecisive with what to order, he knows exactly what he wants, and when Jungkook pushes up your dress and buries his face between your thighs, it takes everything in you not to climax right then. His tongue flits around your clit, teasing you as his hands massage your thighs while keeping them wide for him. 
“Jungkook,” his name is a breathy whisper in the air as your fingers curl around his locks, tightening your grip when he flicks closer to where you need him. “Please.”
You wiggle your hips, searching for more friction from his tongue but he just pulls away, tutting his tongue at you for being bad. You sit up slightly to glare at him.
“Patience, baby.”
Whining, you lay back on the couch with a huff. “This is why we hated each other bac—oh, fuck me,” you finish with a moan as he flattens his tongue across your pussy and stimulates every nerve he can cover. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he begins to suck, gently flicking his tongue every few seconds as he positions two fingers at your dripping center. Delving inside of you, the plunge of his fingers reaches the ache inside of you, causing your legs to tremble as he fine-tunes your body like an instrument. 
“Feels so good, mmph, fuck,” is all you can manage to say as he continues to pump his fingers, the squelching of your walls suctioning them back in with every tug out only making you wetter. Jungkook hums, and the thrumming sensation curls your toes. Arching your back, you tug his hair hard as you mewl loudly from the impending orgasm.
“You can do it, baby, cum for me,” Jungkook praises, “you’re doing so well, squeezing my fingers so tight, watch me.”
When his mouth once again finds its rhythm on your core, it takes just a few seconds of making eye contact with Jungkook, doe-eyes wide as he watches you enjoy his tongue, before you shiver and melt into the euphoria he’s bringing to your body. 
“That’s it, fuck—you look so pretty, baby.”Body spent, you stare up at the ceiling blinking as you come back to earth. Jungkook tucks himself behind you, holding you in his arms. You look down at the arm over your waist, your fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his exposed full sleeve. You can feel his bulge, know that there’s so much more…apologizing you both need to do after years of being enemies, but you have all night for that. And in the morning, you don’t know what will happen, if there will be more to come after tonight, but what you do know is that at this moment you don’t hate Jungkook; not even a little bit, not even at all.
🍽️🍽️🍽️
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© hisunshiine 2023. All rights reserved. 
thank you for reading!!!
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colormepurplex2 · 6 months
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Bump In The Night | MYG
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▻ Bump In The Night ↳ Bogeyman!Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ Horror/Thriller/Demon, Nyctophobia ⤜ Monster Under The Bed AU | angst, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 12,395 ⤜ Summary: The dark can be scary; full of strange, unseen things. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on your fear, the lights go out, and you face the reality that you were always right—you should fear the dark and especially what’s waiting in it. ⚠️ Crass language, fear, inciting fright, playing on emotions, teasing, kissing, fingering, biting/marking, dom tones, begging, choking, panic, unprotected v. sex, feeding on fear, dark thoughts, revealed dark intentions, predator/prey tones, chasing, claiming, serpentine tongue, oral f.receiving, monster cock/sex, metamorphosis
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Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab for @minisugakoobies A/N: Sunny, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it. Happy belated birthday and hope you have a pleasant spooky holiday full of Bogeyman Yoongi delight!
A special thank you to @star-my @hisunshiine and @downbad4yoongi for their amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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Beg For It
Nyctophobia [ nik-tuh-foh-bee-uh ] - noun Psychiatry: extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness.
One…
Two…
Three…
Breathe. Another few seconds, that’s all you want; just precious moments to prove yourself.
Four…
Five…
Six…
Cold chills slither down your spine despite the hot water beating against your back. Your fingers work vigorously against your cheeks and along your forehead. What feels like a thousand pounds settles along your lashes, even though you know it’s nothing more than marshmallowy-light foam.
Seven…
Eight…
Nin—
You spin around, nearly losing your footing in the shower as you angle your face under the spray from the showerhead. The heels of your palms press against your lids as you try to rid them of the foamy facial cleanser.
Air wheezes into your lungs, stray drops of water sucking between your parted lips as you try to breathe against the panic building in your chest. Jerking back from the spray, you open your eyes, wincing at the sting from the water-mixed-with-cleanser that drips from your lashes and floods the corners.
Nothing. There’s nothing there. All you see is the steam-filled space of your shower, water pelting down at your feet, a smattering of bottles arranged on the lip of the tub, and the inside of your plain shower curtain.
You sigh, irritation itching in your chest. Not even nine seconds. You were trying for at least ten. It never fails to leave a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you can’t seem to get a grip on yourself. It’s just the dark. Hell, it’s not even really the dark. It’s just having your eyes closed against the bright fluorescent lights of your bathroom; a pseudo-darkness.
The unease in your stomach refuses to dissipate as you turn off the shower, step out, wrap yourself in a towel, and go through the routine of brushing your teeth and massaging moisturizer into your skin. You hang up your damp towel, quickly pulling on the oversized t-shirt and shorts you intend to sleep in.
Steam clouds the mirror. You don’t typically care to wipe it away, not anymore. It’s one of your small, personal victories—one you intentionally remind yourself of now after your panicked stint in the shower. It used to be that you couldn’t stand not being able to see the space behind you through the reflective surface. Knowing if something lurked outside your line of sight, it couldn’t hide from being exposed through the mirror. Being able to see behind you was all that mattered. Now, you take pride in not needing to see…yet, the niggling in the back of your head won’t cease. So, you swipe a hand, collecting tiny beads of moisture on your palm as you go.
You’re unsure why the act makes your heart beat a little harder. It’s supposed to elicit the calm you so desperately need. But, once you’ve slashed a clear path across the mirror, your brow furrows as you lean in closer to it. Cold dread thunders through your veins as you jerk back, spinning on your heel to make sure what you saw through the mirror wasn’t just your mind playing a trick on you.
Nope, not a trick or even a figment of your imagination…unfortunately.
You stare in paranoid disbelief at the slender gap along the bottom of the bathroom door. The door that leads into your bedroom where you are absolutely, without a doubt, positive you left your bedside lamp on. The gap is dark, like a void threatening to suck you right into an endless nightmare of unrelenting terror. All that’s missing is a gaunt, skeletal hand sliding its too-long fingers under the door.
Shoving away those intrusive thoughts before they can take root and further fester like a dirty wound on your sanity, you try to think logically. It’s possible the bulb in your lamp could have blown, but you know you replaced it just last month. It’s far too soon for it to blow on its own, and surely, it’s not a faulty bulb. So, why is it out? Were you careless and, in truth, didn’t turn it on? A manic laugh gets caught in your throat as you silently berate yourself. That must be it. You simply forgot. So careless.
Fear is an acrid taste on your tongue as you slowly approach the door. You hate this feeling. Even though you tell yourself there’s nothing out there lurking in the dark to harm you, you simply forgot to leave the light on. The distress doesn’t subside—and it won’t. At least, not until you open the door and prove the dark to harbor no ill intent toward you.
Squaring your shoulders and taking what is supposed to be a calming and fortifying breath, though it feels more like sand slipping into your lungs, you wrap your fingers firmly around the brushed nickel handle. The metal is warm, slightly wet from the condensation formed during your shower, against your palm as you twist it.
You lick your trembling lips, taking one more moment to center yourself. Your eyes slide closed as you mentally recall the layout of your room, calculating how many steps there are to get to the nearest light switch. Your bed is angled so the foot faces the bathroom door, and the closet door to the left near the two windows you know are closed tight with the curtains drawn. The bedroom door is easily the furthest from the bathroom, leaving the overhead light out of the question. You knew, before you even began to analyze, that the bedside lamp you recall yourself leaving on is going to be the closest light source. Still, you needed to go through the motion of solidifying that information in your mind.
As you haltingly push it open, the quiet creak of the door, which sounds deafening in the silence of the bathroom, causes chills to pop up along your arms and the hairs at the nape of your neck to stand on end. Darkness ebbs as the light from the bathroom bleeds across the hardwood of your bedroom floor, slowly revealing the interior of your room.
Your heart lurches, and a scream rips from your chest when you see a dark figure sitting at the end of your bed come into focus as the bathroom door swings further open, the handle barely held in your now numb fingers. Panic barrels through you. Your muscles react instinctively, fingers tightening around the knob as you jerk back, the door closing with a harsh bang as you backpedal across the bathroom.
“Babe,” calls a playful voice from just on the other side of the door. You can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears. Nausea threatens to double you over, even as relief floods your system—such conflicting emotions that you feel suddenly off-kilter. 
There is a fine sheen of cold sweat clinging to your neck. Your hands fist into the front of your shirt as the door eases open to reveal your boyfriend standing at the threshold. His dark ensemble makes it seem like the bathroom's light bends around his form, not daring to touch him.
You’ve never liked it when someone intentionally scares you, claiming it’s a joke. It always seems more like a cruel prank than a laughing matter. Though, you note, no one is laughing right now either way. He doesn’t look smug or self-satisfied for having scared you, just simply mildly amused.
“You scared me, Yoongi,” you state flatly, crossing your arms over your chest, hoping he picks up on your discomfort.
The corners of his lips turn down, and his brow furrows as he gives you an exaggerated pout. Even with your pounding heart and the upside down in your belly, you can’t help but appreciate how cute he is when he does that. “I know. I just didn’t see the point in wasting the power if you weren’t going to be in there.” He gestures vaguely behind him to your room, which is barely lit by the light pouring out of the bathroom.
It’s on the tip of your tongue to remind him that even though you weren’t in there, he was. Though, for some reason, Yoongi sitting in the dark doesn’t strike you as out of place. In the five years you’ve been together, you’ve learned to love his odd quirks just as much as any other part of him. He’s genuine, a caring person who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable—a far cry from anyone else you’ve ever given your time to.
“How was work?” you ask, aiming to get back on track with some semblance of normalcy—anything to not dwell on the lingering discomfort that’s still beating away in your chest.
His shoulders hitch up in a nonchalant manner. “Same as always. There’s been a big break in the Hunt case. Director Park thinks we’ll have the code cracked in a few more days. I say by tomorrow night, tops, just in time for our date. It’ll be a reward for my hard work,” his eyes twinkle with mirth. “After all, I think Samhain is a pretty fitting day for dealing with evil, huh?”
You make a noncommittal sound at that last part. Yoongi might enjoy that thought, but to you, tomorrow is more so just a day…simply October 31st and is more about plastic pumpkins, like the ones you have sitting on your front porch, than dealing with evil like that. The fact that Yoongi has convinced you to go to a festival tomorrow night is so wild you’ve been forcing yourself not to think about it.
“Well, I’d put my money on you over Director Park any day,” you say instead, giving him a soft, knowing smile. Yoongi has a penchant for estimations. If he thinks it’ll only take another day to crack a code that’s been wreaking havoc on Interpol for the better part of a year, then you believe him. You don’t pretend to understand all the intricacies of what he does; just know he’s really good with computers and helps whichever government agency needs it most or something like that.
Yoongi gives you a lazy smile in return. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear. Your confidence in me is like kindling for my fervor,” he croons, wrapping you up in his arms. It feels good to relax in his embrace, the last vestiges of your earlier panic melting away as you soak in his warmth and familiarity. “Sorry I scared you,” he murmurs into your damp hair. “Let me make it up to you.”
“What did you have in mind?” you ask, laughing softly when his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt and teasingly caress your sides—the touch is light, making your skin tighten and prickle in response.
A rumbling groan vibrates through Yoongi’s chest as he playfully nips along your jaw before planting his lips firmly over yours in a dizzying and claiming way. “We’ll start with kissing,” the words are whispered between plucks of his mouth against yours, tongue swiping sensually across your bottom lip.
“Kissing is good,” you agree, smiling against his mouth before melting into another heated tangle of tongues and stilted breaths. That fist around your heart eases, letting your chest expand fully for the first time since before you showered.
“Biting,” he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss to bury his face in your neck. The light pressure of his teeth pressing against your skin has your toes curling against the cold tile floor and your fingers fisting into the front of his shirt.
Yoongi plants his mouth right over your pulse point, his tongue flicking over your throbbing vein as his teeth clamp down gently. You swallow hard against the sensation, your heart shifting gears to thud fast in your chest for a different reason. It’s not necessarily fear that drives your senses higher now so much as it is anticipation and an increase in adrenaline—terror adjacent, something you prefer much more to the former.
You shudder against him, knees going weak as he moans, the sound sending pulsing shocks of vibrations down your spine with how his mouth fits against your neck. His fingers ghost along your shorts before finally pushing past the elastic band. The palms of his hands are warm as they slide around and grip handfuls of your ass.
Using his hold on you, Yoongi lifts you up onto the counter beside the sink. As his hands retreat, they tug your shorts with them, working them around the curve of your ass until they’re caught at your knees. You let him push them further until they slacken and fall to catch around your ankles, then onto the floor. Wincing slightly at how cold the counter is against your bare skin, you urge him to fill the space between your thighs, seeking his warmth flush against you once again.
“Yoongi,” you hiss, sucking in a sharp breath as he slides a hand between your bodies and presses the flat of his fingers against your pussy. You don’t need to look in the mirror to know his teeth have left an impression on your neck. He leans back and licks his lips in a show of appreciation, lidded eyes full of mischief and barely veiled lust. “Please.” It comes out warbled as he teases his middle finger between your lower lips.
“Beg for it,” he says. “Show me how much you want me to make you forget about the darkness.” His voice has an edge, like he’s teasing at something, but it’s lost on you to piece together what it might be.
Sucking in a deep breath, you repeat your plea, “Please.”
Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, and you can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding between your legs and under the sensitive skin of your neck that Yoongi ravaged with his teeth. Lightheadedness kisses the edges of your clarity, daring you to get lost in the delirium that Yoongi is offering.
“You can do better than that,” Yoongi taunts, his laugh low and husky as he pulls away, leaving you bereft of his touch where you want it most. “Beg. For. It.” The words are clipped, punctuated with staccato taps of his middle finger against your sensitive clit.
“Fuck—Yoongi, please! Please, I need you!”
“That’s my girl,” Yoongi smiles wickedly. Two slender fingers sliding into your wet heat are your reward. “You’re so wet already. Look at how your body is pulling me in. Fuck, that’s nice.” He angles himself so you can both look down and watch his fingers slowly pull out, glistening with your arousal before sinking back in.
Your body squeezes around his fingers, walls fluttering in anticipation and building pleasure. “Need you,” you mumble, grabbing at the button on the front of his dark wash jeans with one hand and tugging at the bottom of his black t-shirt with the other. “Fuck me, Yoongi, please. Please, fuck me. I need you to make me forget.”
A flurry of motion accompanies his answering growl of approval as he helps you strip him out of his clothes and the rest of your own. You barely feel the absence of his fingers in your cunt before he pulls your ass to the edge of the counter and shoves his cock inside with a guttural moan that echoes in the small space.
The fit of him inside your body is deliciously perfect, like he was made to please you. Your fingers press dents into his shoulders as you grip him tightly. One of his hands squeezes your hip to keep you from slipping off the counter while the other finds its way to having a light grip on your throat.
His forehead rests against yours, the back of your head pressed against the mirror behind you. The angle makes his thrusts shallow, forcing the crown of his cock to rock against a sensitive spot deep inside that has you seeing spots behind your closed lids.
Yoongi has always been a contrasting lover, hot and cold, in a way that always leaves you breathless and assuaged. The look on his face says he’s fucking you, but the sensual roll of his hips says he’s making love to you—the hand on your throat says he just wants to control you. Regardless of how he fucks, it always consumes you. From the first time to now, he wholly and utterly devours your sanity and spits it back at you two-fold. He brings you palpable lucidity while also destroying all sense of right and wrong. Some call it morally grey; you call it just another titillating facet of who he is.
Pleasure builds fast, and you know you’re about to tip over the edge when the pressure of his hand on your throat increases. It’s an infinitesimal change, but it feels like the tightening of a vice all the same.
The erratic beat of your heart stutters further, swallowing you down into a thick-headed spiral of trepidation. You know Yoongi won’t hurt you. It’s not that—not quite. It’s the idea and knowledge that he could. It’s a taboo feeling, craving that helpless flutter deep in your belly that dares you to indulge in the darkness instead of running from it.
Yoongi’s hips continue to roll against you, your body pinned in place by his hand on your throat. Your eyes flutter open just to fall shut again as the hand on your hip moves until his thumb presses against your clit, making your body jerk and hurtle back toward the precipice of pleasure from before.
With his thumb pressed against one throbbing artery in your neck and the pads of his fingers against the twin on the other side, he has complete and utter control over you. All it takes is another barely-there squeeze to have you changing your grip from his shoulders to his forearm.
The bitter taste of cowardice laces together with the cloyingly sweet, carnal flavor of lust that’s coating your insides. Yoongi rumbles, a moan low in his chest. The rhythm of his hips kicks up until they’re hammering against yours to the point that measures of pain mix with the terror, forming into a rapture of exhilaration. His thumb coaxes your orgasm through precise flicks over your swollen clit.
You can’t help the sound that rips from your throat, squeezing past his grip in a ragged mockery of a moan—bright colors spiderweb across the backs of your closed lids as you sip from his chalice of wickedness. White noise joins the rush of blood in your ears as somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, alarm begins to bleed into the hazy euphoria clouding your head. “Yes!” Yoongi groans. “That’s it, fuck!”
“Y-yoon—“ you try to choke out his name, fingers trembling from their tight grip on his forearm. Just as you’re about to try and shove him away to get a reprieve, his hand loosens its hold on your throat, and the instant rush of oxygen to your brain washes away all other thoughts as your body surrenders once again to his dominion. The orgasm tears through you, sweeping you out in a hedonistic riptide. Your walls clamp around his cock so hard he snarls and shudders with the trigger of his own release.
You must have blacked out from the overwhelming cascade that besieged your senses because the next thing you’re aware of is Yoongi tucking you into bed beside him. The sheets are cool against your heated skin, a welcome lull of relief. He presses into your sated body, chest against your back and arm possessively curling over your hip. “Get some sleep, my queen,” he murmurs. “I’ll hold the darkness back.”
The room is dark, just as it was earlier when you panicked. But, just as always, when Yoongi is around, it’s less frightening…seemingly somehow less dark and foreboding. He might have darker desires when it comes to pleasure, but right now, he’s the light that chases away your other demons.
🖤🖤🖤
Yoongi
The taste of your fear still lingers in the back of Yoongi’s throat as he pretends to sleep curled around you. He knew turning off your bedroom light would scare you. It’s why he did it. The peckish feeling that rumbled in the pit of his stomach drove him to want to play with you. Your fear instantly sated his hunger, and it made his dick hard when you screamed. You scream so prettily he just can’t help that natural, primal response. 
That is, after all, precisely why he chose you. Everything about you speaks to his needs, promising sweet and succulent fruit that’s always ripe for plucking.
He learned early on that if he could elevate your heart rate and incite a sliver of fear in you while fucking you…well, his full belly is testament enough to how much he loves that. You call it a kink, he calls it dessert. It wasn’t his intention to fuck you after he frightened you, but the irritating erection grating along his zipper had other plans. 
His mortal form isn’t his favorite. It’s far too small and has far too many baser needs and limitations. Though he does enjoy the feel of your soft, pliant flesh under his—especially when you’re ripe with the sweet smell of terror—it makes it worth the discomfort this inferior mode has.
It’s not lost on Yoongi that he could have ruined you from the start by taking too much from you. But he’s been careful over the years, molding and training your body to be the perfect vessel for him to feed from. The fact you were already experiencing high anxiety and an innate fear of the dark prior to him coming into your life helped tremendously. Nyctophobia is such a beautiful thing.
You claim he’s helped you, for the most part, get over your fears. However, he knows this is just a lie you tell him and yourself to make yourself feel and seem braver. He knows the truth, though. There is no getting over your fear, not when it lives with you…sleeps next to you, touches you, fucks you. He’s everything you’re scared of, everything you think is creeping around in the dark, waiting to pounce. He’s your worst nightmare…literally as much as figuratively—and you have absolutely no inkling of that truth. All you see is what he lets you see: just a sweet guy with a penchant for darker tastes behind closed doors.
To you, he’s just Yoongi. But he has had many names over the centuries: Demon, Baba Yaga, El Coco, Butzemann, Tikoloshe, Bogeyman, and so on. All of them are generally the same, but none are quite right. He is all these things, and yet none of these things—he’s so much more.
It’s a common misconception that he only targets people who do misdeeds. That’s not it at all, for the sweetest fruit is the unwary, the innocent, the vulnerable, and the scared. That is the pinnacle of his desire, the unctuous delight that feeds his depravity and gives him power over the darkness—darkness that calls to him now.
Being careful not to wake you, Yoongi slips out from around your soft, lush body. Feeding on your fear in the bathroom drained some of your vitality, lowering your constitution, and the best recovery for that is a good, uninterrupted eight hours. So, he’ll leave you to replenish so that he may feast once again—one last time before he executes his final, ultimate plan; the whole reason he chose you to begin with and has been periodically parading around in this limited meat suit for years.
The maw of darkness under your bed beckons him to shake off the mortal form and take his rightful place as King among the shadows. Yoongi catches his reflection in the standing mirror across the room. The only thing distinct is the brilliant red eyes staring back at him. It feels good to stretch and dissolve into his proper form, shadows snaking along his limbs and filling his every breath.
You fidget on the bed, brow furrowing as your body reacts to the nearness of his proper form. He likes watching you twitch and shift, soft mewls of fright sounding low in your chest. If he wanted, he could swallow you whole, and you’d never be the wiser, one moment existing in your nightmare and the next slithering into the ether of what comes after. But, it’s not time…not yet.
Letting one of his long, spindly shadow fingers draw back in and reform into the echo of human flesh, he presses the blunt tip against your temple. You instantly quell your movements, and the pitiful cry in your chest subsides. Yoongi can feel the subtle tremble of your body, the vibrations skittering through your flesh as your body recognizes his hellish touch. Your subconscious is as familiar with his umbral form as your conscious is with the lies he’s used to frame how you see him with your eyes.
Digging through the screen of your nightmare, he pulls back the darkness and lets in just enough light to lull you into a false sense of security—something he does nearly every night after he’s fed from you so he doesn’t accidentally drain you dry. By the time he returns, the light will have faded from your dreams, and there will be just enough unfettered distress permeating the air of your bedroom to give him a top off of delicious fear, his own personal cup of pick-me-up.
Yoongi slides under the bed and into the darkness, leaving you to your deep, lambent dreams. He melts through the barrier between your world and his. Euphoria buzzes through him as his depth of power increases. That’s the biggest downfall of walking the mortal plane. There aren’t quite enough shadows or stinking fear to fill the neverending void inside him. But here, in the Realm of Darkness, the taste of terror is thick and nectarous. It lingers in the air and is as permanent as the oxygen you breathe in your world.
Yoongi drifts through the firmament of his domain, letting the worries and stress of what’s to come fade. For a being with endless power and control, he never thought he might have the need to be concerned over something seemingly so trivial. But, the ceremony and ritual he has planned for tomorrow night is easily the most critical thing he’s ever dared to accomplish.
The Realm of Darkness might be sufficiently filled with succulent fodder for him, but there are other limitations he encounters. Constraints that involve the worlds beyond his Kingdom. He doesn’t want just to be able to thrive here on his own turf. He has aspirations of letting his darkness seep into the outer realms—including yours—and if he has his way, you will help him do just that. The barriers will crumble, and he’ll be free to bathe the distant realms in his thick ichor of destruction.
Finally feeling more like himself, he aims for the Shadow Spire, where waits the Throne of the Damned—his throne. All it takes is a simple thought, and he’s standing in the sprawling cavern of the throne room. It stretches wide in all directions, having no end or beginning, just existing as his will needs.
Pillars of malachite soar into the air at equal intervals, disappearing into the glittering cosmos expanse above his head. Silvery flecks of light cast the whole room in a mockery of the night sky of your world, something he’s grown to admire over the years spent there. Yoongi takes a deep breath, soaking in the tangy, bitter stench of brimstone and copper. Soon, he hopes, your delectable perfume of fear will join them.
“Sire,” a gruff voice says in surprise. “We weren’t expecting you back until the ritual. Welcome, is there anything we can do for you?”
Yoongi settles his shadowy form on the monstrous broken stone pillar at the top of the dais that rises from the rocky floor. His court, ever vigilant in their duty to him, wait for him to respond. “Is everything prepared for the ceremony?” he asks, eyes finally landing on the six figures seated on the smaller stone plinths arrayed in a semi-circle in front of him—the Shadow Court once again complete with his return. Hopefully, he won’t have to leave the comfort of his court but one more time. Once the ritual is done, he shouldn’t have to so much as lift a finger to reach into the overworld.
“All is well and ready, Sire.” Wicked smiles spread like wildfire across the court. They’re just as excited as Yoongi is to be finally moving forward with the plan. None of them have tasted the kind of fear that Yoongi has feasted on from you—the fresh terror of the mortal realm—but if they had more corporeal forms, he knows they’d be salivating. Soon, so very soon.
Looking around at his companions, he can’t help but think how humorous it is that you so readily believed his deceptions about working for the human government. He remembers the day he finally stepped from the shadows and made himself known to you. You were immediately drawn to him and couldn't stop yourself from indulging in your curiosities like a moth drawn to a flame.
Yoongi had already come up with an elaborate backstory and characterization for the human he wanted to portray. He knew all of your deep, dark fantasies and brought them to life. Your eyes got round with awe and reverence when he first revealed his supposed job, confirming how gullible and under his spell you were. He can’t deny it’s worked in his favor.
He’s allowed to keep odd hours and disappear as needed. When he returns to your bed before the sun rises, he’ll leave you a note on your pillow about being pulled away for work. You’ll read it and sigh a dreamy sigh as you have every other time he’s done that. You never bother to seek further explanation—your trust in him is so wholly concrete.
There is satisfaction in the freedom you’ve granted him to embrace a darker side. It’s how he can get away with fucking you so callously that your brain warps it into some deranged form of love. You’ve chalked every depraved thing he’s done to you up to him needing an outlet after dealing with such heinous stuff for work. He only had to mention a few well-known acronyms, like FBI and CIA, and you accepted it. As scared as you are of the dark, he’s aware of the collection of slasher and horror novels you keep stuffed away under your bed and that you listen with rapt attention to those silly crime shows and podcasts that tell you he’s not the one you should be scared of. Soon, he won’t have to worry about any of that, though—no more silly backstory, no more hiding, no more stuffy mortal form, no more holding back. Tomorrow signifies a change, a new beginning. It’s the time when the veil between the worlds will be thin enough that he can drag you down without it sucking your life away. Some call it Samhain, Calan Gaeaf, Mischief Night, Halloween—it holds nearly as many names as Yoongi himself does—but for him, it will be the night he calls triumph. The night his shadows will lay a claim to you wholly; the night you stop fearing what goes bump in the night and instead stand by its side and let it consume you.
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Wicked Delight
Consciousness comes in fits and spurts of clarity. There is a moment where you’re asleep but aware. With this awareness, you can discern and feel the potent darkness webbing across your subconscious. You’ve seen it before, the myriad of inky tendrils that zig-zag through the light like fissures over a dried river bed. It scares you but also fills you with intrigue so rich it nearly eclipses the fear.
You know that if you could just hang on to that in-between space, the feeling of teetering on the edge of a knife, you could examine the darkness further and figure out what it is and where it comes from. But your body has other plans, sucking you away from your inspection and pushing you toward uneasy wakefulness.
Shifting under the blankets, a crinkling noise draws your eyes open to land on a rumple of white paper lying beside you on the empty side of the bed. With fumbling fingers, you grab the ripped leaf of creamy parchment and turn it so you can see the blue scrawl of words.
Got some darkness to take care of. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Don’t forget; 11 pm sharp, beginning of the corn maze. X
There is no name signed to the note, just an X, but you know who left it, regardless. You roll over, holding the thin paper above you so you can see the faded, faint print under his ink. A smile tugs at your lips when you realize it’s a corner ripped from Kinder und Hausmärchen, one of Yoongi’s favorite books. He has an original first edition that he’s let you moon over a few times. The first time you found a note and saw what it was written on, you nearly crawled out of your skin to berate him for ruining such a prize. He gently chided you for your reaction and assured you it was just a copy, scanned and printed for the whimsy of it.
Looking closer, you see the corner is from a page of the Cat and Mouse in Partnership tale. Your smile fades, turning into a mild frown as an odd feeling ghosts beneath your skin, eliciting goosebumps to pop up along your arms. Sighing, you shake your head and pull the blanket up high under your chin, chalking the sensation up to being cold. Your eyes rove around the room, taking in the early morning light filtering in through your thin curtains, showing you just enough of the inside of your room to be comfortable with not having a light on.
Finally deciding there’s no point in dallying in bed further, you toss back the covers and brace yourself against the chill in your room. Only, it’s not as cold as you were anticipating. Opening the small drawer on your nightstand to deposit the message in with the dozens of others Yoongi has left you over the years, you can help but smile. They’re sweet, little pieces of him that affirm to you why it’s okay he disappears the way he does. The reminder comforts you, especially on this day.
Halloween has never been your favorite. Well, that’s not true, exactly. You do like Halloween—just the modern and more mainstream version with candy, pumpkins, and warm, spiced drinks. Fall colors are also something you enjoy. The cooler air is nice. You’re partial to cozy sweaters and boots, too.
All in all, you enjoy this time of the year. You just don’t necessarily like the darker parts, the scarier parts. Haunted houses and scary movies are things you could do without unless it’s under very specific circumstances. Such as having Yoongi there. Which is the only reason you’ve agreed to meet him at the festival tonight. You haven’t been since you were a teen and got so scared by the fright actors that you swore never to return.
Except, now, you are returning. It’s been on the tip of your tongue for the last week to cancel on Yoongi, feigning a head or stomach ache. But, the sheer excitement in his gaze when you agreed, has been enough to make you bite your tongue every time a protest bubbles up. You can—and will—do this.
With an entire day to go before your date with Yoongi, you busy yourself with mundane tasks. A bit of cleaning, some light reading, and lastly, dumping a few bags of assorted and prepackaged candies into a bright orange bowl with a goofy jack-o-lantern face printed on the side.
You’re usually a porchlight-off kind of person. Still, this year, considering your own venture outside your proverbial Halloween box, you decided why not go the extra mile for others, too? Even if one kid dumps the entire bowl into their treat bag, you’ll at least feel somewhat accomplished in your attempt.
Setting the bowl on your doorstep, you stand back and survey it. The yellow-tinged porch light illuminates the candy and the plastic pumpkins you have arranged on either side of your door. You contemplate adding a ‘please take only one’ sign for the bowl but decide a paper warning isn’t much of a deterrent. Leaving the candy to its fate, you head back inside to finish getting ready.
Time flows in a weird, out-of-body kind of way. You’re aware of pulling on your coat and walking into your garage through the kitchen—even the process of driving to the festival registers in your mind. But, you’re genuinely not cognisant of what you’re doing until you’re staring at the large flashing sign for the festival. You have to practically put on blinders to make it through the ticketing process, ignoring the scare actors as you wait in line.
The corn maze is at the center of it all, meaning you keep your eyes glued to the ground as you skirt the edges of the food stalls and game stands until you reach it. There, you wait, standing at the start of the corn maze and stare at your watch, counting the seconds as they tick by with the small hand.
The air is cool, the crisp scent of fall heavy around you. Laughter and faint screams carry to you from the festival surrounding the maze. The giant corn labyrinth is the center of the entire two-week-long event. Thousands of people flock from near and far to venture within the husked, cream-colored stalks.
If you make it through the maze without assistance from the scare actors, then you get an entire bucket of caramel popcorn drizzled with chocolate. That’s never been enough of a reward for you to try. Even the last time you were here, you never stepped foot into the clustered embrace of the maze.
The festival is lit enough with all the twinkling lights and fair games lining the thoroughfares and the midway. Food trucks and stalls litter through the vendors with stuffed animals and cackling clowns. You try to ignore the bodies that sway and shamble through the crowd—the scare actors. They’re just people dressed up in costume and makeup, but they still elicit that flighty feeling in your belly, that little trickle of fear.
At the ticket booths, there were neon green necklaces you could purchase. You used them as a distraction while you waited in line. They’re ‘no scare’ necklaces, big bright indicators that you’re a sensitive little bitch that doesn’t want to be scared. At least, that’s how you felt looking at them, considering buying one. You know they’re an extremely valid item, a protective emblem that many people need, and that it’s perfectly fine—in fact, it’s encouraged for people to use them if they need to.
As you fingered the green nylon of the lanyard, you couldn’t help chewing your bottom lip, worrying at it until it cracked under your teeth and the coppery tang of blood danced across your tongue. You almost bought it…maybe you should have. However, the fact that you’re half-hidden by the corn maze sign and doing everything in your power not to draw unwanted attention to yourself seems to be keeping you from attracting the actors your way.
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The tiny hand on your watch ticks away, drawing closer to turning over the minute, which'll turn over the hour to 11 PM. Sharp. Yoongi’s insistence. Just as the hands come together on your watch, you feel that telltale tingling feeling of eyes on you. It’s a familiar sensation, one you often associate with Yoongi. Daring to step out from behind the sign to the corn maze, you spin in a slow circle, trying to catch sight of him.
“Looking for someone?”
You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the shriek that rips from your chest as those words drift in from right behind you. So close that it’s impossible to imagine you hadn’t noticed him approaching you as you looked around.
“Yoongi,” you sigh, dropping your hand.
He's enveloping you from behind before you can turn around and give him a pouty yet stern look. His familiar musk and warmth ease your heart back from its hammering gallop. “You’re good enough to eat,” he gruffly murmurs, pressing his nose into the fabric of your coat at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You can feel more than hear his deep inhalation, as if he’s drawing in the scent of your very soul and branding it throughout his olfactory system.
“The maze closes in an hour. Are you sure we can make it to the center before then?” you ask, voice light and airy as relief infused with drips of serotonin weaken your knees and your resolve to be upset with him for frightening you. You turn in his arms, keen to look upon his face for another kick of comfort, but it sours in your belly when you take in his pulled-up hood and the thick black gaiter covering the bottom half of his face. “What’s that for?”
Yoongi shrugs, shoulders lifting in his typical nonchalant manner. “It’s Halloween. Consider me dressed for the occasion.” He winks at you, but it does nothing to quell the unease still rolling around just beneath your surface. Feigning that stomachache is starting to sound more and more appealing, Yoongi’s excitement be damned.
“You look like a burglar.”
You can’t see his smile, but you can tell it’s there by how his eyes crinkle and lids lower mischievously. “And you look ripe for the burgling.”
“You’re insufferable,” you gripe teasingly, finally letting a smile grace your face despite the lingering anxiety. It’s easy to forget your fears and worries when you’re looking into his umber-colored gaze.
“Come on, let’s go.” Yoongi offers you his elbow, and you tuck your hand into the crook of it, leaning your shoulder against his arm.
The fleece-lined leggings you chose to wear keep you warm enough, paired with the knit sweater and thick tweed coat covering your top half. Your chunky boots are comfortable and practical for the slightly uneven terrain of the cornfield-turned-maze. Yoongi is far more casual in just jeans, the hoodie, and a pair of dusty and worn sneakers.
You study his face the best you can past the edge of his hood and out of the corner of your eye. He’s just as handsome as always. Even the black fabric covering the bottom half of his face doesn’t detract from his allure, which seems to be intensified by the deepening darkness around you as he leads you through the maze entrance.
A festival worker stands off to the side in full-on farmer-gore. Their overalls are covered in faux viscera, and there is a bloodied sling blade dangling from their off-hand as they beckon you and Yoongi forward with their other.
“Tonight's savior phrase is ‘Pumpkin Guts’, yell it out if you need assistance navigating the maze, and a helper will assist you,” he offers before turning to the next patron approaching a few feet behind you and Yoongi and giving them the same information.
“Pumpkin Guts,” Yoongi scoffs with a quiet laugh. “Surely they could have come up with something far more fitting than that.”
“I find it kind of nice. The childish charm of it helps make a situation like getting lost in the maze less scary, don’t you think?”
His eyes look more onyx now that you’re within the maze, the only illumination coming from tiny, sparse fairy lights. They catch your gaze, and you see a smile tilt up the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. “That’s adorable.”
“What?” you laugh, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks.
Yoongi shakes his head, his smile growing. “You always find the good in everything. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
All the residual anxiety from earlier bleeds away with just that singular statement. You press in closer to Yoongi and angle your face up in silent request, to which he immediately obliges. He hooks a finger in the lip of his gaiter and pulls it down so he can slant his mouth over yours. His lips are warmer than usual, his breath carrying faint hints of bourbon as he teasingly slips his tongue through the seam of your lips. All too soon, he’s pulling away, leaving you with just that small taste of him. The gaiter slides back into place, and he nods ahead of you. “The quicker we make it to the center, the quicker you get the surprise I have waiting for you.”
“A surprise?” you ask, thoroughly intrigued. 
His affirming hum in response turns into a soft chuckle as you eagerly quicken your steps, tugging him along beside you. As someone who isn’t partial to being shocked or scared, it’s perhaps a bit ironic that you love surprises of the unknown. They just have to be the right kind—like one from Yoongi; er, well, at least the ones that don’t involve him sitting on your bed in the dark as you open the bathroom door or so you tell yourself—but you digress.
Though, perhaps there is a bit of enjoyment from those kinds of surprises, too. In a twisted, semi-fucked up way, the surge of adrenaline is like a counterweight to the dopamine response from your amygdala that follows any time you get frightened. The perfect balance of emotions. The fight or flight reflex makes your body feel like it’s keyed up with extra energy, leaving you feeling like you’ve just run a mile or fucked for an hour. It’s maybe a little unhinged to salivate over those small sips of terror secretly. Does that make you a masochist?
You’d almost think Yoongi picks up on your inner thoughts with the way he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat and gives you a sidelong, knowing look. Something tingles beneath your skin, an electric feeling akin to loose ambitions. It seems tonight won’t be so bad after all.
The crunch of dried corn husks and hay accompanies the occasional scream or laugh echoing from various points in the maze. You’ve only led Yoongi to a dead-end a handful of times so far, but the anxiety at not having found the center of the maze yet is starting to mount.
“I can feel your stress in the tension in your hand,” Yoongi muses softly. “Relax, you’ll get your surprise.”
“What if they close the maze before we make it to the center, though?”
“They won’t.”
You cut a quick glance at him. He looks smug. “You seem so sure, but from my count,” you shift your attention to your watch, “we only have fifteen minutes before the festival closes, and I’d guess we’re nowhere near the center yet.”
Yoongi shrugs. “I may have paid the vendor to let us stay as long as we need.”
“You did what?”
“Tonight’s special,” Yoongi tugs you to a stop, his hands engulfing yours, and gives you a pointed look. “Very special.” The thumb of his right hand grazes over the expanse of skin above the knuckle on your left ring finger. “Now, let’s go find the center…and your surprise.”
A new sensation trickles in–excitement. Your heart patters faster as you turn and haul Yoongi on with renewed vigor. Gone is any trepidation; in its place, nothing but giddy and barely veiled anticipation. And to think, you’d almost been silly and canceled on him.
🖤🖤🖤
Yoongi
Yoongi wasn’t exaggerating when he said you look good enough to eat tonight. If only you knew how close to an accurate statement that was. He’s had a constant flow of moisture seeping into his mouth since he laid eyes on you standing behind the wooden sign for the maze. He had just finished setting up the surprise for you in the center, utilizing his natural form in order to move quickly without being seen.
All the implements he needs await him at the maze's center. The theatrics of it all are only for fun. He could have simply taken you without them. But he’s always been partial to playing with his food before devouring it. The pungency of your anxiety as you waited was a delightful appetizer to what is sure to be a satiating main course.
Every time you make a wrong turn in the maze, Yoongi can feel the tension in your muscles and the momentary disappointment that flavors your scent. It’s amusing watching you shuffle your feet and grumble under your breath before turning and backtracking.
It’s not lost to him the amount of uncertainty you’ve had ever since he asked you to go with him tonight. Not that he would have given you a choice in the end; he’d have taken you by force if needed. But he’s a passive creature at best, so the less work he has to do, the better.
Using the ruse of there being a surprise waiting for you isn’t entirely untrue. Though, the treat he’s confident that he’s planted the idea of in your head is far different from what’s actually going to happen. He’s spent enough time in the mortal realm to know what you’d have interpreted from him stroking that particular finger with the right look in his eye. Your heart had gone into a frenzy of thick, heavy beats, and your eyes had lit up with wonder.
Yeah, he’s pretty sure he knows what’s driving your feet to move as quickly as they are now. It’ll just make the disappointment taste that much sweeter. Over the five years he’s been administering to you, molding you into the perfect vessel, he’s learned the small nuances that make you tick. Whether it’s for eliciting fear or excitement, desire or anguish, he knows exactly how to produce the results he wants.
“Ugh,” you grumble for the dozenth time when you turn a corner and come to another dead end. “This is impossible. How can you find enjoyment in these things?”
Yoongi smirks. “It’s quite analytical if you really want me to answer that.” The way your nose wrinkles when he says that is positively adorable. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”
You gleefully cede the lead, letting him guide you back and toward a different direction entirely. You’re still excited, bubbling with positive anticipation, even though you’re no longer playing the game, per se. It’s interesting how you so quickly relinquish the hunt—he’d never.
The noise of the festival and maze has long since fizzled away. He didn’t actually pay the attendant. He’s just using some of his ability to mask your presence from anyone who might get in the way. Some of the lights from the midway are still going, and a few rides are lit up. However, the deeper Yoongi leads you into the labyrinth, the darker it becomes. He’s confident you’re so wound up that you don’t even notice how his shadows grow and stretch along the narrow walkway around you.
“Oh, look!” You excitedly point at the opening that comes into view at the end of the row. “I can smell the popcorn. Did that bribe include a bucket waiting for us, too?”
Yoongi has no idea if there is popcorn waiting, but he imagines you’re only smelling the lingering scent. He can’t detect anyone else within a hundred-meter radius around the maze. If the prospect of popcorn makes you happy, then sure. “Of course it did. We’ll need a snack once I’m done with you.” Which mostly isn’t true, though he can’t be sure. Yoongi has never shadow-turned a human before, much less taken a mate in the process. You might be ravenous by the time he’s done; though, he’d bet it won’t be popcorn you’ll be craving.
There is a distinct moment where Yoongi can feel the shift in your demeanor. Your excitement dips into confusion as you take in the finish line area that’s deserted of anyone and anything other than the large 10 ft square structure he erected in the middle. The raw malachite plinths are so dark the lindworm-colored stone seems to absorb the illuminance around them, turning the gateway into a giant pit of darkness that devours the faint twinkling lights. Shadows bleed from the open space between the pillars, reaching for their master.
Yoongi’s blood sings with desire as fear trickles in with the confusion. “Yoongi,” you whisper his name, and it warbles from your lips oh so beautifully. “What’s that?”
“That’s your future, my love.” He untangles himself from your grip, circling you like a predator. “Now, run!” he snarls from right behind you.
You don’t even scream when he shoves you forward, your arms windmilling and boots tripping over the scatter of dried corn husks before you topple headlong between the pillars. The last thing he sees before the waiting shadows swallow you is the whites of your eyes as you throw a panicked look over your shoulder at him.
It’s mildly disappointing that you didn’t even so much as grunt or give him any sort of satisfaction that you’re petrified other than the cloying perfume of your terror that settles on his tongue when he huffs in irritation. Hopefully, when he follows you through the gateway, you’ll already be on the run because he’s in the mood to play a while longer before he shatters the world as you know it.
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Yoongi wants you to recognize him, so he only casts off some of his mortal form, choosing to keep his face and most of his body intact. What changes is his size; he grows larger, arms and legs longer, fingers more like talons, and eyes the dark red of fresh blood.
He knows he looks monstrous, even more so with the cloth still covering the lower half of his face and the hoodie now ripped and hanging from his physique. As soon as he slides through the barrier of the gateway, he’s met with that euphoric sound he hoped for earlier. Your scream rends through the thick, stale air of the Realm of Darkness, music to his ears.
“That’s my girl,” Yoongi crows, his voice gravelly and distorted by his natural form. He inhales deeply, sucking in your dismay's succulent and divine fragrance. “Fuck.”
You scream again as he steps toward you, which spurs you into gaining your feet, not even caring to look at the soot-like substance caking your hands and knees. Yoongi can only imagine the thoughts warring inside your pretty little head right now. Wild fear makes your eyes flick frantically around before you choose a direction and sprint at breakneck speed between the skeletal trees surrounding this side of the gateway.
He chose the Forest of Decay specifically because it provides the perfect environment for a chase. It allows him to easily keep up with you while giving the illusion of protection. There’s also not a single nook or cranny Yoongi isn’t intimately familiar with; after all, he can’t have you finding some unknown hole to burrow into.
The flash and flicker of your coat draws his attention as it zigs and zags through the petrified sentinels of the forest. Their long, gnarled branches reach far, entwining overhead like a macabre endless bird's nest. It creates a dim atmosphere, with the faintest hint of light bleeding through the limbs. Each tree is about a foot wide and twenty feet high, the ground covered in sooty ash; it’s an ideal playground.
“Leave me alone!” you sob when Yoongi lets you catch another glimpse of him.
Yoongi shudders as a fresh, new wave of terror undulates from you and washes over him. “No can do, my queen.”
The thrill of the chase adds kindling to Yoongi’s need to consume you whole. Every step you take is reckless. You throw yourself around trees so fast you nearly hit the next. The spacing between the trees is relatively narrow, just a few feet at most. Still, with the way you’re barreling through them, you’ve already accumulated a few scratches and minor lacerations from the dried bark, feet kicking up small puffs of ash with every frantic step. The tangy, sweet scent of your blood makes him salivate. The thick, viscous drool coating his tongue will make it all that easier to fuck you with it once he catches you.
Lumbering on behind you, Yoongi intentionally stomps and makes as much noise as possible. Every crack and thump he makes has a whimper shivering from your throat. The thick appendage between his monstrous thighs swells with each terrified sound you make. Fucking you in his proper form will be such a treat. Surely, it’ll be far better than any sex he’s had with the limits of his human body, even if he does love the way your softness compliments his.
But there is nothing soft about Yoongi now—not when he has such a tasty morsel running and screaming so prettily for him. He’s all hard edges and thick muscle. A manic chuckle bubbles in his chest as he leaps ahead, hounding your heels.
It’s comical, ironic even, when he watches your foot catch on a high root hidden by a pile of ash, and you go sprawling on the ground before him. He’s seen enough of those cheesy horror films so fervently worshiped in your world to know how funny this is.
“Please, no! Leave me alone!” you beg through ragged breaths. Your face and hair are marked with scratches, flecks of dried bark, and the pewter-colored ash covering the ground.
An appreciative moan works its way free of Yoongi as he stands over you, swaying like he’s drunk. Which, maybe he is. There is a faint buzzing in his ears, and if he opens his eyes too wide, your image doubles. Two of you; he grins wickedly at the prospect. Now, that would be a definite treat.
As it is, there’s only you; that will be sufficient for what Yoongi has planned. He looms over you, and the backward-bending joints of his knees give slightly as he towers across your prone form. Your eyes pan over his arched body, perhaps for the first time, taking it in with true clarity. Yoongi lets his skin ripple between human and proper form, coalescing and whirling with shadows.
With a flex of darkness, he rends the remnants of his clothes. The ripping of the seams and subsequent soft plop of the ruined fabrics echo through the suddenly silent space. You’re barely even breathing as you take him in, eyes landing on the swinging cock that nearly brushes your belly as he places a gnarled hand beside your head in the ash.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, though it comes out more like sand in a grinder. Lowering further, Yoongi nudges your chin with his nose, guiding your head sideways to give him unfettered access to your throat. Pressing into the crook of your neck, he huffs hot breath over your skin, rejoicing in the instinctive reaction. Your skin prickles and flushes with goosebumps, and a thick cloud of potent fear wafts up as your pulse hammers away beneath his lips.
“P-please,” you whimper through trembling lips. Tears stream down your cheek and drip off the bridge of your nose. Their salty tang mixes with the sweetness of terror pervading the air.
That word, spoken in that way…it does something to Yoongi. He groans, nipping at the skin of your neck with his blunted teeth before letting them elongate so he can adequately graze your papery-thin flesh. You cry out when they slice through, leaving behind thin blood trickles and shallow scratches.
Your blood is laced with fear, blooming on his tongue like an ambrosia of the gods. “You’ve always begged so prettily, my queen. You’re a treasure, and I’m so glad I found you all those years ago, so innocent and unsuspecting—my perfect mate.”
The next scream that leaves your lips is guttural, full of panic and delirium as Yoongi takes his first pull from your body. Thin wisps of black shadow thread from his lips to yours. They pulse with every drag he takes. He’s fed from you thousands of times, but never like this—never so profoundly.
Fear, terror, horror, fright…it’s all the same, and yet Yoongi is almost sure he can taste the distinction. Like a fine wine, you have tasting notes that vary with every sip. By the fifth breath, your body has grown slack, your eyes wide and glassy. Tears still stream down your face but in silence.
Yoongi watches your pallor grow sickly, waxy as sweat pearls along your hairline and temples. Draining you is a delicate affair, something he’s both dreaded and looked forward to for so long. Watching the fire that he loves so much bleed from your eyes and the vigor leech from your skin pangs him with a foreign sensation, something akin to mourning? He realizes now he will mourn the loss of your human form, even if it’s far inferior to what he will turn you into.
With one final shuddering gasp, the darkest, thickest tendril of shadow snakes its way between your parted lips. Your fingers and limbs spasm as the inky darkness roots in deep, tethering itself to you like the strings of a marionette. It pulls tight in Yoongi’s own chest, cementing his essence to yours. As a barbed ring of shadow settles on the ring finger of your left hand, the bond snaps into place, and chaos ensues.
🖤🖤🖤
You’ve never experienced such visceral fear before. It’s consumed every fiber of your being. You’re no longer who you once were and will never be the same again. You are simply fear incarnate.
A boiling starts beneath your skin, beginning at the tips of your fingers and toes before rolling through to the center of your chest, where it pops and sizzles like dry ice in tepid water, so cold it burns.
It’s like flipping a coin. One minute, you are experiencing insurmountable terror, and the next, you exude it. Nothing can scare you now, not even the monster sitting a few feet away watching you with calculated eyes—familiar eyes, eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you can count.
They’re not as cold as they were a moment ago. You distinctly remember how those red eyes softened right before you felt yourself float away. It’s Yoongi, you know this, but it’s also not. He’s different, and it’s not even the deformed, gangly shadow form that makes up his body, either. There’s something more, something that draws you in, like an anchor dragging you into his deepest, darkest depths. He’s a vast ocean, and you’re pretty sure what he just did was akin to drowning you—killing you.
Only you don’t feel dead.
Quite the opposite, in fact. For the first time in your existence, you feel truly alive; and not in the living sense but in the eternal sense. You have no ending or beginning; you exist as you will yourself to be.
With that thought, your body urges you to change, to morph into a far more comfortable form. Darkness seeps from your pores, cascading out of your skin until it becomes a mockery of its former self, and it feels good—so good.
“What have you done to me?” Your voice sounds different, soft yet sultry. It reminds you of black silk and lace, devious and coy, with the perfect mix of husk and drawl.
Yoongi lets out a slow breath, the sound like dry leaves crackling. “Made you mine.”
“What…what are we?”
The soft ash sifts between your now exposed toes, the boots you once wore laying in peeled strips along with tattered remnants of your clothes. Nudity has never been an issue for you, but it’s as if you have no inhibitions at all now. The shadows around your body contort to form curves and perfect swells.
“We have many names. Demons, bogeymen…it’s all very fitting, yet doesn’t quite capture the truth. What I am—what we are—is darkness, fear, terror, and shadow. We are infinite, endless, and everything all at once.”
“Why me?” you whisper. That tether inside of you pulses, pulling tight as you shift and try to put distance between yourself and Yoongi. It’s like a rope around your throat, pulling you up short.
Yoongi narrows his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. “This is the Realm of Darkness—my domain,” he gestures broadly with a clawed hand, “and it was all I had access to until I found a way to enter yours. Once I tasted the sweet nectar of fear it provided and the power it allowed me access to, I couldn’t stop my curiosity and need for more. Then I found you, and I knew you would be the perfect compliment to my aspirations, just the thing I needed to break the barriers completely.”
He straightens up, and the way his body catches your attention has a heat flaring somewhere deep in your being. Your eyes lock on the dark sinews and plump muscles that stretch and contract as Yoongi moves to crouch in front of you. The ribbed and notched cock swaying between his thighs dribbles a thick, viscous line of lavender-colored arousal.
Tearing your eyes from the sight of it, you force yourself to look into his feral, red eyes. His explanation is both confusing and clear at the same time. You understand it, but know that you should be railing against it because it’s morally incomprehensible. You’ve essentially been kidnapped and forced into what this is. Yet…yet—“I feel…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe it.
“Powerful,” Yoongi offers with a knowing, pointed-tooth grin.
“Powerful,” you repeat, letting the word roll around your tongue before nodding. Perhaps that’s why you are shrugging off your cares and the moral compass that has seemingly forgotten how to point north.
The subtle smell of burnt wood and sulfur hits you as Yoongi raises a hand to fit across the front of your throat. Those too-long fingers engulf it, sending a shiver down your new body. Instead of your belly filling up with fear, it fills with desire and need. You no longer need to battle the terror, letting it drip away from you instead.
“Look at you. You’re so perfect. You don’t feel scared, but that’s only because this realm leeches it away and devours it before it can poison your mind, leaving behind nothing but how you truly feel.”
You know there has always been a darkness inside you, something that even you feared to face head-on. After all, it must take some kind of crazy to be both scared of the dark and want to embrace it. It’s not just the way Yoongi plied your body and made you forget to care about being proper and good. Is this what you were made for—all the fright and terror you’ve experienced and secretly sought out leading you to this very moment here?
All it takes is one look at Yoongi to know the truth.
You were created for this, crafted to be precisely what Yoongi needed, just as he said.
With that moment of clarity and acceptance, a new sensation slithers down your spine. A lasciviousness that has you moaning in surprise. 
“Fuck,” you grind out between clenched teeth.
“Gladly,” Yoongi chuckles, his red eyes taking on a lecherous gleam. “Let’s unleash your darkness on the realms, my queen.”
Between one breath and the next, your knees are splayed wide, and Yoongi has his face buried between your thighs. All it takes is one languid swipe of his long, broad tongue to have you cursing again. Caustic words fall from your mouth, laced with vitriol as it’s unfair how good it feels. It’s like every inch of contact between your body and his writes itself across what was once your soul.
“Mmmph,” you moan incoherently as the beginning of an orgasm lashes against your insides. Yoongi greedily sucks and licks, tongue laving over your throbbing clit before sliding between your contracting walls.
A tsunami of darkness crashes out from within you, blanketing the surrounding forest in shadow. Wisps of clarity ebb and flow, drifting along with the gloom until Yoongi grounds you with an exceptionally sharp pinch to one of your nipples.
“Almost there,” he announces gleefully, licking his lips before launching forward and forcing you onto your back.
Yoongi feels like fire against you, his body scorching everywhere it touches. You expect to feel the soft ash against your back but the only sensation that ebbs in is a cool aeration against the exposed skin between your shoulder blades.
Monstrous arms wrap around you as Yoongi slots his too-big mouth over yours, invading you with his slick, serpentine tongue. Your eyes flutter open, and you catch a glimpse of a pewter sky beyond the scraggy branches that are suddenly closer overhead.
You try to pull away from his devouring kiss to alert him to the jagged web of dry wood about to scrape his back, but he growls and renews his effort to shove his tongue as far into your mouth as possible. Snaps and cracks fill the air, and wood explodes around you.
Realization dawns as more should-be-fear-turned-lust pours through your body and expands beyond it, filling the sky around you with a murky darkness. The power of that emotion propels you further, sending you and Yoongi far above the landscape to suspend over the entirety of the Realm of Darkness, leaving a streamer of smoke-like essence in your wake.
Yoongi throws his head back, finally relenting from the kiss. His broad chest heaves against yours, and his red eyes are wild as they roll manically before landing on you. “How is this possible?” you pant, hands gripping the muscles of his shoulders tightly.
“Anything is possible here,” he whispers fervently before spinning you so fast your vision blurs. The horizon spans as far as you can see around you. You and Yoongi are hundreds of feet higher than even the tallest mountain peak. Everything is a monochrome grey, black, or in-between. A jagged line of mountains rear to your right while inky streams and rivers zig zag to your left. It’s a hideously beautiful display that contradicts all scenic views you’ve ever seen, yet is better than all of them combined.
“Oh, God,” you whimper when Yoongi forces your legs wide and slots his hips between them from behind. Shadows billow around you, charged with energy that crackles and sizzles, barely restrained from being unleashed to wreak untold havoc.
Thin fingers slide around to cup the front of your throat, giving a none too gentle squeeze. Yoongi snarls, “There is no God here. We are the gods!” His declaration is punctuated by the head of his cock prodding against your sopping cunt. This new body is already eager to pleasure Yoongi and receive pleasure in kind.
His hips kick forward, and you feel every delicious ridge and ripple along his thick shaft. It feels like he invades the pit of your stomach, filling you to the brink. It’s a rush of wicked delight, pure erotic rapture.
You moan again, this time invoking the only name left on your tongue, “Yoongi!”
“I’ve been looking forward to fucking you like this for five years,” he grunts, emphasizing the words with his hips pumping against your ass in brutal strokes. “Claiming you wholly, decorating the world with our combined shadows. Look how they writhe for you, waiting for you to command them. Let go.”
Your eyes roll from side to side, taking in the dark, undulating forms stretching wide around you. With each prick of pleasure Yoongi insights in your body, they branch and roil further out, creating the foundation for your own personal bedlam. 
Like a bounty won at the end of a hunt, Yoongi ravishes your body with his. He’s brutal, unrelenting and wanton. The hand on your throat tugs with every slam of his hips, bowing your back and forcing you to peer out at the Kingdom begging for your rule. Darkness beseeches you, screaming for your glory and power as it pours out and blankets the sky.
Your world narrows to one pin point of coherency. Yoongi. He is nothing and everything all at once. He is the beginning and the end—fear, loathing, lust, and madness…through it all, he is infinite. And he’s yours.
With one final, shuddering breath you let go; welcoming the darkness once and for all.
“Yes.” The word, whispered from your parted lips, is sucked away with the maelstrom that detonates around and within you.
You barely hear the guttural, primal roar that emits from Yoongi as he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with his terrible darkness. You shatter into a multitude of shards, a glittering storm that dances through the ether, sparking and catching on the thin membrane that stretches between the realms. All it takes is one weak point, a small breach in the barrier, and everything falls apart.
It’s glorious, feeling yourself everywhere all at once. Your body is still fluttering around Yoongi, sucking and welcoming his release into your soul. But, your consciousness is spread wide, bleeding through the nexus of this realm and the one you once called home.
The mortal realm bows to your will. You can feel the beings of the Realm of Darkness funneling toward the broken gateways, pouring through to consume and conquer with the whisper of your glory on their tongues. Fear reigns supreme, consuming everything in its path as you expand your hold on the darkness.
“My Queen of Darkness,” the ephemeral coo caresses your ear, phantom lips brushing along your shadows. Yoongi’s darkness blends with yours, adding to the pulse that seeps to all corners of existence. “No longer will you fear, as you are fear itself…glorious, neverending fear.”
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-10-23 ColorMePurplex2
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yoonia · 10 months
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the bedroom hymns ● chapter list
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⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Summary | A threat against your father’s empire has forced him to send you away from the only place you have known to be your home, from the heaven-like prison which you have always dreamed about escaping, only to find yourself in a new kind of confinement. Haunted by the questions about your father’s past and the dark tales that seem to follow him, the thousand mysterious doors and the secrets waiting for you to reveal, and the mysterious Prince that has been following your shadows between realms, you are off to a new adventure in the Land Far Far Away.
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⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au, Faerie au, Angst, Mystery, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; this story contains classism, threats of assassination, curses, dark magic, rumours about serial killers, mentions of abductions, mentions of arranged marriages, betrayal, manipulation, depiction of war, fantasy typical violence, mentions of blood and wounds, minor descriptions/depictions of injuries, fantasy weapons (swords, etc), mentions/depictions of death, mentions/depictions of domestic abuse, alcohol use — also includes mature and explicit sexual scenes (...more details will be added as I continue writing this piece...) ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: chapter xvii. divulgence (Apr 15th, 2023) - 126,234 words of n/a words  ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi
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𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖞…
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⏤ Written by @yoonia for the Once Upon A Fantasy collab; with @jamaisjoons​​​, @yeoldontknow​​, @inkedtae​​​, @opaljm​​​, @kookdiaries​​​, @kth1fics​​​
⏤ Crossposted on: AO3, Wattpad
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⟶ Chapters
⇢ prologue. the bluebeard’s tale
⇢ chapter i. when the stars are aligned
⇢ chapter ii. the wicked king
⇢ chapter iii. dreamers
⇢ chapter iv. in bloom
⇢ chapter v. homecoming
⇢ chapter vi. the castle by the sea
⇢ chapter vii. the secret doors
⇢ chapter viii. chasing shadows
⇢ chapter ix. secrets
⇢ chapter x. wanderers-1
⇢ chapter xi. wanderers-2
⇢ chapter xii. alias
⇢ chapter xiii. red strings-1
⇢ chapter xiv. red strings-2
⇢ chapter xv. crescendo
⇢ chapter xvi. respite
⇢ chapter xvii. divulgence
⇢ chapter xviii. serendipity
⇢ (...more chapters coming soon...)
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⟶ References
⇢ visual references
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⟶ Patreon specials
⇢ visual moodboard
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— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
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kth1fics · 7 months
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Inconspicuous (M) | KTH (TEASER)
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Inconspicuous
⟶ Pairing: Incubus!Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ⟶ Tropes: Jennifer’s Body Au, Friends to Lovers?, College Au ⟶ Teaser WC: 600+ ⟶ Warnings: talk of d**th, etc (not much since it's a teaser) ⟶ Beta: n/a (but my beauty jo @daechwitatamic looked through here for me) ⟶ Summary: A demonic force possesses college boy Taehyung, causing him to feverishly lust over unfortunate females who are completely out of his league. As his appetite for human flesh keeps Taehyung alive, you – his best friend since childhood – try everything to stop the savage butchery he leaves in his trail. ⟶ Author’s Note: Completely based off from the 2009 movie Jennifer’s Body, I have twisted a little tale of my own. I truly hope my readers enjoy this dip in horrific evil, and please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! Be mindful: The fic is still currently being written and is subject to change at any given time!
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi
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You hear the professor mention the debate with his students. He, Professor Greenburg, rests himself atop the corner of his desk as he peels his glasses from his face. The class is divided into a semicircle of chairs, each attached with a small wooden plank which acts as a desk for each student. Taehyung always fancies scooting his chair inches closer to you so he can mumble his remarks and to steal some of your notes or snacks you stuff your bag with.
“Yes, you can!” Your classmate raises their voice to interject another. “Some people are inspired by the movies or shows. Haven’t you seen any news or documentaries?”
“No, it’s not. Movies are not responsible for our actions or pursuit.” Another classmate bounces back.
Taehyung sighs softly, leaning his head against his hand as he shifts his weight. He’s counting down the minutes until your class time is up and for the two of you to leave. At this point it’s routine for the class to continue their arguments and discuss their cases. He just blends into the background and pretends he is invisible.
Dawn, a strong personality sorority sister, sits tall in her seat. Her purple pom-pom pen taps angrily when another student references film and real life being art references and imitation.
“Absolutely not,” she musters her voice up. Her sharp eyebrows stand high on her forehead with shock, “This isn’t a hypothetical situation. It’s not about ‘art’.” Dawn clarifies, “these are real people you’re mentioning. Actual life. This is reality, not a movie.”
“It inspires people and gives people ideas,” you hear someone chirp back. “Think about it, the writers of said movie or show already thought and came up with the scenario. It’s present in at least one person’s mind if you’re being technical about it.”
“And sure, making it into a movie is what? Promoting the idea?” Dawn mocks back.
The class continues to bicker and prod another’s ideas. You attempt to ration a few yourself, listening in and observing the thoughts that come out of your fellow peers. However, Taehyung remains silent. Hushed slightly adjacent to your seat. 
A resounded alert chimes from everyone’s phones, loud and startling. A few of you jump, quickly grabbing at your phones to see what all the noise is about. From your device, you see a campus-wide notification. Seems that everyone else received the same one.
You scan the words as someone else verbalizes it for the class.
“Campus curfew?”
The buzzing begins small but grows loud fast.
“All classes after 4:30 PM are canceled and will be merged online for the time being.”
You can hear the groans and moans coming from the other classes down the hall. Maybe some students are happy about the sudden transition.
“What’s this about?” You question out loud, turning your head around to see if you can find the answer from someone. Even when you turn to Taehyung, you see the disappointment of him being clueless.
“Beats me,” he shrugs.
“Is this about what happened from the town over?” You hear a curious classmate ask Professor Greenburg. “From last weekend?”
“It’s tough to say something like that is related to this,” he honestly replies. Professor Greenburg is still rereading the notification from his cellular device. “It wasn’t directly affiliated with the campus or student body, but if it were the case, it’s a precaution to keep things safe.”
“Maybe the police recommended it,” Dawn comments. “I just heard from a friend at a nearby university that they also were given a curfew at their school earlier in the week.”
You tune back to Taehyung, whispering, “What happened?”
“Didn’t someone die?”
“Die?”
“Killed,” Taehyung boldly refines. “Murdered.”
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⟶ Estimated Posting Date : Halloween 2023
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© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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thekpopuniverse · 10 months
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[closing.]
Hello members, affiliates, and readers. As of June 25th, 2023, the Kpop Universe will be closed and archived. Member and affiliate applications are now closed and there will be no other updates or projects from us. Thank you everyone for all of the support and we wish everyone the best. - The KPOP Universe
Tagging to inform our affiliates: @pirateeznet @btshoneyhive @bangtan-oasis @kwritersworld @k-vanity @btscreaturescoven @btsafterdarknet @bangtantheatrenetwork
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